Long Road Home
by Just Jill
Summary: The Temple is in an uproar, QuiGon is in the Healer's Wing, and no one knows what happened to his Padawan. Book Two of Visions of the Past, Memories of the Future, Sequel to Problem Child. Trailer for book three up.
1. Always a Moment too Late

Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with George Lucas or Star Wars. I have borrowed some people and a lot of the world created by Dave Wolverton and Jude Watson from the Jedi Apprentice books, but they are not mine. I am making no money off of this.

Writer's Note: This started because of a fic I read called Best Forgotten by Cassia (which you can find at jafd. nsio. net/ - without the spaces). A bit into writing it, and I began to realize that it dovetailed nicely into Problem Child, tweaked it a little, and then a lot more when Jovieve got hold of it!

Writer's Note 2: This is the sequel to Problem Child. While it is not mandatory that you read it, there will be some references to the occurrences both in the story and leading up it. I hope you enjoy it! (If you want to find it, check my bio.)

Writer's Note 3: Many, many thanks to Jovieve for beta reading this, and for helping me to fix all the problems I didn't even know existed and for helping me find answers to the ones I couldn't figure out on my own. You are awesome. Thanks.

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Ch 1: "Always a Moment too Late" - Dream Theater, _The Ones Who Help to Set the Sun_

The usually serene Jedi Temple was in an uproar. It took the combined efforts of the Jedi Council and all the Knights currently in house to calm all the students, and that took until nearly evening. Once that had been accomplished, the Council began to gather facts.

Jedi Knight Qui-Gon Jinn lay in the Healer's Wing, in one of the bacta tanks, seriously injured. By what and by whom, no one seemed to quite know yet. He was currently deep in a Healing trance as well, and the Healers refused to let him be brought out of it. "You may speak to him when he awakens," Theela said almost sternly to Mace Windu, member of the Council and friend of Qui-Gon. The tall black man nodded in his slow, deliberate manner. He was not intimidated by the healer, although the Hjem towered over him by a good head and shoulders, and could easily pick him up and bend him in half.

"Send us word if his condition changes."

"Of course, Master Windu," she said, and understood that he meant more than just when Qui-Gon woke from his trance.

Bant Eerin, a small Mon-Calamari girl, reported to her Master she'd been the one to report Qui-Gon Jinn's condition. She had planned on meeting Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon's Padawan, after his workout, and was waiting in the hallway for him. He'd called to her from the training room. The Council immediately requested her presence, and she stood before them, her hands working nervously on the sleeves of her cloak, Tahl standing quietly behind her in support. Bant repeated what she'd said in a voice high and trembling, with nerves and worry over her friend. When pressed, she said Obi-Wan had been distraught and very unlike himself.

"What mean you?" Yoda asked gently.

Bant's hands gripped her sleeves, stilling their shaking for a moment. "There was a dark feeling in the room," she said, "but I couldn't pin point it. And I really didn't have time. Master Jinn looked pretty bad."

"Did you return with the Healers?" Mace asked. She swallowed nervously.

"Yes. I showed them where he was."

"Was Obi-Wan there?"

Bant paused and closed her eyes, and the Council felt her stretch out with the Force. Many of them nodded in approval when they realized what she was doing; using the observations she hadn't consciously noticed in the panic of reviving Qui-Gon Jinn. Then she looked at them again. "Yes, Master," she said.

"The dark feeling, was it gone?" Yoda asked.

"Mostly."

"What happened then?" Mace prompted. They had the Healer's story, of course, but another point of view could only help.

"The Healers pushed Obi-Wan away. I stood next to him for a while, but when they took Master Jinn from the training hall, Obi-Wan was not there. I did not notice him leave." She didn't try to hide her dismay.

"We will find him," Adi Gallia said gently, smiling when the girl looked her way. Bant nodded, and the Force around her calmed a little.

"Return to your quarters," Mace said gently, not wishing to alarm her more. "If you remember anything, do not hesitate to inform us."

Bant bowed and left the Council chamber, following her Master. They could see that her hands were still trembling as the two passed through the heavy doors.

"Find the Padawan we must," Yoda said, once the doors had closed behind her. "Know something important he may."

Mace nodded. "I'll check his quarters." He stood up, unable to account for the chill that pressed into his bones. Yoda nodded at him, and the small Master quickly became the center of a maelstrom as the Council named or requested assignments to help search the Temple. Even as he left, he could hear comm units being activated and many of the resident Knights and Masters assigned to various areas of the large building to search.

The common area of Qui-Gon's quarters were, as always, neat. Obi-Wan's room looked as if a tornado had gone through it. Clothes, books and datapads lay scattered across every surface of the room except the sleep couch. Lying spread out in a vaguely familiar pattern was Obi-Wan's lightsaber, taken to pieces and... His breath caught. Familiar pattern indeed; he had no idea why the Padawan would know it. The boy was offering up his lightsaber to be destroyed. He stepped from the chaos, across the short hallway and into Qui-Gon Jinn's room. He would not touch that lightsaber. What happened to it was entirely up to the boy's Master.

The other room was neat, which was not a surprise. Qui-Gon's lightsaber lay on his bedside table. It meant one thing, at least; Obi-Wan had returned it to their quarters. Otherwise, the Master's lightsaber would either still be in the training hall or with Qui-Gon. There was no sign, no feeling in the Force that the Padawan was still there, so he returned to the Council Chambers. The maelstrom there had calmed, but the tension in the Force had not. Saesee Tiim and Ki-Adi-Mundi had remained, but even they looked tense, comm units held close by for quick reporting. Yoda looked as calm as he ever did.

"Obi-Wan is not in his quarters," Mace reported, and the worry he was beginning to feel was reflected in Yoda's eyes. "He left his lightsaber there; wherever he has gone, he is without it." He would tell Yoda the condition of the Padawan's lightsaber in private.

"Worrisome this is," Yoda said, and Mace could see from his expression that the small being knew he had more to tell. The tall man nodded.

"Yes. Where might they need help looking?" he asked, and when he was told, he went. He felt much like many of the other Council members. He may not be of much help, but he would go crazy waiting for news.

Other reports began filtering in, almost all of them without word of the missing apprentice, some through comm units, others as the Council returned, one by one, to their seats. One of the last, brought in by Depa Billaba, reported that one of the mechanics had seen a boy about the right size and age get on a transport to the main space port.

The Council was quiet for a moment. Yoda closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he sighed. "Gone the Padawan is from the Temple. Find him quickly we should."

Within an hour, assignments had been given, those Jedi in the field had been given an alert to watch for him, and the Council called in many of the students Obi-Wan's age and younger to be questioned about anything they might have seen or felt.

Before long, however, the first report came back that Obi-Wan was not in the space port. If he'd been there, he'd left already.

Mace and Yoda exchanged glances. The boy had disappeared.


	2. Maybe I Could Disappear

Writer's Note: Anyone else not able to check stats? I've got seven reviews... but no one's actually read the first chapter. Anyone else having this problem?

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Ch 2: "Maybe I Could Disappear" - Hanson, _Look at You_

Obi-Wan huddled in the corner of the transport hold, wrapped in a cloak, dressed in his pants and under tunic. His hood was up, covering the obvious Padawan haircut, and he was trying to not look like a Jedi. It was hard, though; he was one, or had been beginning to be one, and he really didn't know how to hold himself differently, not without his Master to imitate. He pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, eyes burning from the tears he would not let fall. He refused to think about what had happened, what he'd done, the darkness that had...

The lump in his throat rose higher, and the tears pressed his eyes worse than before. He swallowed hard. He had to think, had to come up with something; he had no credits left and precious few skills, but he had to keep moving. He also had to live. He hugged his knees tighter and rested his chin on them, oblivious to the beings around him.

It was mostly a refugee ship; others had used a transport like this to get to Coruscant to escape home, and many were headed away again because there was nothing on the capital planet for them. He knew the stories. He actually had no idea where this one was going; he'd had just enough credits to purchase a lower class ticket on the first freighter going out. When he thought about it, he realized that he didn't care, that it didn't really matter. He just had to get away.

The hold was dark, filled with people and cargo, but there was a small buffet line set up on one side. He couldn't see it from where he was, but the kitchen droid's droning voice seemed to fill the room, mixing in with the soft murmur of hopeful conversation. He'd found a fairly remote corner, hemmed in on three sides with crates. The floor seemed clean, or else the dim light kept the filth from showing. No one had seemed to notice him. He was glad.

He had to do something about this bond. He didn't know if Qui-Gon were hurt, or... or dead. He forced himself to admit it, and he didn't want to know. What he really wanted was to feel the gentle tug on his braid again, but he didn't think that would ever happen. He began slowly building a wall around his end of the bond. He didn't want to break the bond, that was for his Master to do, and he'd heard that it could be painful. The last thing Obi-Wan wanted was to cause his Master more pain. Before he'd gotten very far on that wall, his exhaustion caught up with him and he dozed off.

"This one looks lost," a man's voice said softly, but it sank into his consciousness without waking him.

"I've had my eye on him since he got on. I don't think..." The woman's voice drifted off as he sank deeper into sleep.

When he woke, he was stiff. He had a good reason; the day had started with a lightsaber lesson, and ended with him curled up in this transport. His muscles were not happy with him. Still, he didn't move except to look around for anything that might threaten him, chagrined that he'd fallen asleep. He really didn't know how safe it was for him to have done so.

"You woke up."

He started at the half-familiar voice, glancing up at the young man who sat on a low box in front of him. He was human, with dark hair and skin, though not as dark as Master Windu. He was dressed in a neat, nondescript cloak, much like the one Obi-Wan was wrapped in, although he could see a blue tunic where it fell open at his throat. "Yes," Obi-Wan said warily, and then realized where he'd heard the voice. It had spoken of him as looking lost. The next words broke his train of thought.

"Are you hungry?"

The thought of food made him feel ill. "No."

"Are you in trouble?"

Obi-Wan pressed his shoulders into the wall at his back. "Why would you think that?"

"We saw you get on," the man said with an easy smile. "You haven't moved since you boarded, and we get pretty good at spotting those that could use help."

A young woman - a Twi'lek - appeared behind him and made her way through the tumbled boxes that hadn't been there when he'd fallen asleep, her cloak twitching as she walked. She chuckled lightly as she placed a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Don't antagonize him, Thane," she teased gently, and turned her attention to Obi-Wan. "Are you okay?" There was an almost motherly tone to her voice. He could see the blue of her tunic as well, under the cloak, and he wondered if they'd dressed to match on purpose.

He took a deep breath and forced his voice to work properly. "Yes, thanks," he said.

"You haven't eaten since you got on," she said. "You're what, fourteen or fifteen?"

He nodded warily. "I'm not hungry," he said. "But thank you." He didn't even care how she knew how old he was.

The Twi'lek settled down on the floor in front of him, her hands in her lap, cloak parted to show a loose dark skirt. There was nothing threatening about her. "My name's Genie. What's yours?"

Obi-Wan panicked. He hadn't even thought of changing his name! Obi-Wan was not a particularly common name, and it would be far too easy for someone - the Jedi Council - to track him using it. His mind spun in some fury, trying to come up with something feasible.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell us," Thane said cheerfully after a long silence. "Thane isn't my birth name."

"Mind if we suggest a name?" Genie asked, just as cheerfully. "I have to call you something, you know." He realized that Genie wasn't a very Twi'lek name, and wondered where she'd gotten it.

"Why?" He reached out with the Force, cautiously testing them, and felt none of the darkness that had been haunting him lately. At least it had faded from his mind. Maybe because he had done what it wanted. He flinched from the thought and focused back on the two in front of him.

"Why?" Thane repeated.

"Why do you want to help me?"

Thane looked thoughtful. "Because," he said slowly, "people helped me when I needed it. I repay them by helping others."

"We are from the Monastery of Bel-Meridah, in the Maitreva system," Genie said. "You looked like you could use some help, and that's what we do. We help people. We give them a place to find peace with themselves, learn new skills, become better people. Would you like that?"

Obi-Wan sighed softly. "Yes. Very much." Well, that explained why they were dressed alike.

"I'll find a name," Thane said, and pulled out a datapad. Genie produced a small card and a stylus - something Obi-Wan had only seen on a back world somewhere, on a mission - and held it poised to write. Thane looked up after a short while. "Is Bennet okay with you?"

Genie wrinkled her nose in distaste. "You can go by Ben," she said.

"Bennet is fine," Obi-Wan said faintly.

"Want a last name?"

"No, thank you." He needed to keep at least some of his identity. "Kenobi doesn't stick out as much."

"Bennet Kenobi," Genie said, writing quickly. She gave him the card. "They'll know you if you show them this." She got to her feet as Thane stood, and patted his shoulder. "Get something to eat, Ben. We'll be landing shortly."

He nodded and watched them walk off. Still, he didn't move, resting his chin on his knees again. After a moment's contemplation, he went back to building the wall around his training bond. He watched the beings around him without looking like he was, and wondered if he would, maybe, try being just Bennet Kenobi in the Monastery of Bel-Meridah.

Obi-Wan's luck ran out as soon as he stepped off the transport. Pervan was the name of the system he'd wound up in, and it was about mid-way to the rim. He'd never been there, but from the sparkling condition of the space port and the prominence of droids, it was not only highly technical, but a wealthy planet. He spotted a Knight waiting at the busiest exit point and quickly shielded himself to hide his Force signature. Turning, he started for a different exit, one that looked like it wasn't used much. He kept his hood tight around his head as he did so, and his shields strong.

Once he got to the city, though, he realized that the space port was a sham. There were beggars on the streets, some of them truly unable to work, but it seemed as if most of them were there for a reason he couldn't determine. Then he realized that if the space port were any indication, droids were the main workforce here. He shrugged slightly, not wanting to be among the beggars, pulled his cloak closer about him, and trudged back toward the space port, shields up in case he saw the Knight again. Before long, he'd found someone willing to take him off planet in exchange for his small skills in engine work, heading farther out-rim, but they dropped him off at the first planet they came across when he hadn't been much help at all.

This space port was dirty, looking more real than the one on Pervan. He ventured out and found himself in the heart of the city, although that didn't seem very big. Well, he admitted to himself, after Coruscant, all cities seem pretty small.

The buildings were run down, but conditions improved as he got away from the port. His stomach rumbled, and he turned his thoughts to food. He leaned against a wall, closed his eyes, and reached out with the Force, trying to find where he could get food. He had no credits and, as the bruise on his shoulder reminded him, no real skills. He rubbed at it with a grimace, where the Captain of the last transport had hit him to make him leave faster. He'd managed to dodge the boot to his backside. It had been embarrassing. Obi-Wan realized that he'd lost his focus and sighed. Not even gone for a few days and he couldn't concentrate. He reached out again, and the Force beckoned him forward.

He entered a small square and stopped on the edge of it. Many people were gathered there, milling about the large cook stove at one end, and he caught glimpses of people in green handing out food. Someone brushed past him, knocking him to the side, and he pressed himself against the wall. His stomach rumbled again.

"You sound hungry."

He turned to see a young man in the same color of green, grinning at him. "You could say that," Obi-Wan said.

"Why don't you go eat?"

"I... wasn't invited. And I have no credits."

The man laughed. "You have now been invited. And credits aren't necessary. The food isn't really great, but it's filling, and it's free."

Obi-Wan took a step forward, then paused and turned back. "Why are you helping me?"

The man grinned again. "Because you need it, whoever you are, and that's why we're here." He gestured at the cookstove, then his tunic. "We're here to help those who aren't as fortunate. It's obvious you're new here, and new to the streets. Get off them at dark. That's when the bad guys come out."

Obi-Wan nodded and moved forward hesitantly, joining in the throng. He came out with a messy sandwich, consisting of a meat of some sort in a tangy sauce. It was delicious. He drifted away, slowly, paying attention to his surroundings even as he ate. He was halfway across the square, back to where he'd come in, when he felt it again. Darkness, questing for him.

He bolted the rest of his food down even as he looked for the nearest roadway out of the crowd, and spotted an alley to his right. He moved quickly through the beings, able to move faster as he neared the edges of the square. When he reached the mouth of the alley, he raced down it, heading for the space port. If he could just get off-planet fast enough, maybe he could lose it again.

There were three ships in the hangers, and he slowed, walking toward one of them. "Excuse me," he said, stopping the man that was getting on board.

The man turned. "Yes?"

"Please, sir, I'm looking for work." He didn't want to beg.

The man's eyes hardened. "I have no need for a stow away," he said coldly.

Obi-Wan moved on to the next one, a larger transport that looked like it was carrying passengers, even with the blaster marks on the sides. The ship looked old, disreputable, and maybe they wouldn't mind that he was so young. A woman stood at the boarding ramp, her manner abrupt, but not cold. She wasn't all that pretty, with short, dark hair and what looked like gills on each side of her neck.

"Excuse me, Ma'am. I'm looking for work."

She looked vaguely interested. "What can you do?"

"Clean," he said. "I can help with repairs, engine work, and cooking, and I follow orders very well." He shifted, panic beginning to rise. The darkness was already getting closer.

She considered, then leaned back into the transport. "Hey, Alan!"

"Captain?" a voice called back.

"You need help in the galley?"

"I always need help in the galley." The man who appeared was burly, broad shouldered with short blonde hair. He stared curiously at Obi-Wan. "You worked in a galley before?" he asked doubtfully.

"Kitchen, helping prepare and serve food," Obi-Wan said, hoping they couldn't see his desperation. He considered using the mind trick on them, but hesitated. He wanted to be as much of a Jedi as he could. Besides, if he ever was found, maybe his conduct would speak well for him. He didn't think it would, but anything had to help after what he'd done.

"How many did it serve?"

"Two to five thousand."

The man looked vaguely impressed. "Got a name?"

He took a deep breath. "Obi-Wan." As soon as he'd spoken, he remembered the name he'd been given, and wished he'd said Bennet instead.

"Welcome aboard, Obi-Wan," the woman said. "He'll show you where to go." She gestured at Alan and left the ramp.

The work was hard, but he'd expected it. What he didn't expect was the first blow that fell when he didn't stack the pots the way Alan had told him. He fell against the bulkhead, ears ringing, staring up at the man in surprise. "These have to be done exactly," Alan growled, and stacked the pots again the way he'd showed Obi-Wan before. "Otherwise they don't fit."

Shaken, Obi-Wan got to his feet. "Yes, sir," he said, and went back to work, focusing on that instead of the nightmare-like memories that returned of the Masters he'd had before Master Jinn.

He got off voluntarily at the next port, barely waiting long enough to pick up the small amount of credits the Captain said she owed him. She said nothing of his nervous twitches whenever she moved too quickly, and he felt her eyes on him as he fled the ship faster than he had the first one he'd been on.

It took very little time for him to find another ship, but it took a while for him to gather his courage to approach someone. He did only when he realized the darkness was back. This time the urge to mind-trick his way onto the transport was stronger, and he could barely control the trembling in his limbs that might convince this man not to hire him. He was barely ahead of the darkness when the ship blasted off.

This job was easier in that his supervisor didn't feel the need to discipline him so heavily, as long as the corridors were clean and clear. But the ship was heading in the wrong direction, back toward Coruscant, so he left at their next port as well.

The darkness felt far away, and he took a day to gather himself together and to plan. He couldn't really afford it, but then, he couldn't really afford not to. Spending a little of the money he had, he found a ship that was heading away from Coruscant and toward the Maitreva system, and he decided that he'd head in that direction as well. If he could find a place that would allow him to be, to change - that was what Thane had said, wasn't it? - maybe, even if he wasn't a Jedi, he would still be able to do some good in this galaxy. He didn't feel the death of his dream as he turned away from the console and went to see about getting a job on the ship he'd found.

"Certainly, m'boy," the Captain boomed with a grin, clapping Obi-Wan on the shoulder. "How far are you wanting to go?"

He took a deep breath, wary now. "As far as I can," he said.

The Captain nodded. "Good choice. Show yourself to the steward, he can always use help, and tell him I said you were all right." His eyes narrowed. "If you aren't all right, you'll be dead."

Obi-Wan shuddered slightly. "Yes, sir," he said quietly, and followed the man's directions to find the steward.


	3. Nothing Really Works that Easily

Ch 3: "I Know That Nothing Really Works that Easily" - Britney Spears, _Heart_

Qui-Gon Jinn woke slowly, eyes opening to see high, vaulted ceilings shaded for a very soothing effect. Sunlight, dimmed by a thin, darker piece of transteel, fell across his medical couch and spilled onto the floor on the other side. He blurrily recognized that he was in the Healer's Wing before a hand pressed onto his aching head and eased the pain of which he hadn't consciously been aware. With some effort, he looked around to find the person that belonged to the hand, and finally his gaze fell on the Healer who stood by his bed. "Welcome back, Knight Jinn," she said softly.

"Hello," he said, and his voice scratched his throat.

"Get some water," the Healer said to a girl who stood at the door. "And have Senior Healer Ashthoret notify Masters Yoda and Windu that Knight Jinn is able to see them now."

The girl nodded and was gone. "Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon managed to croak.

"Stay quiet," the Healer said gently. "All will be explained."

He shook his head, struggling to sit up. "I have to find..." Almost immediately, pain lanced through his left side, leaving him breathless.

The Healer pressed him back onto the couch. "Master Jinn, if you do not lay still, I will have to sedate you again, and you will have to wait longer for your explanation."

He stared up at her, jaw set in determination, but her eyes did not allow him any space to move. With a sigh, he relaxed, hissing in vexation as his side twinged again. He waited in waning patience, sipping at the water the girl had brought back with the news that Yoda was on his way.

Finally, Yoda appeared in the doorway and stumped slowly toward Qui-Gon. "How feel you?" he asked once he'd settled on the edge of the bed.

"Sore," Qui-Gon admitted. "Worried." Speaking no longer hurt his throat quite so badly.

"Worried?" Yoda echoed.

"My Padawan. Is he all right?"

Yoda sighed and his ears drooped. "Sure we are not," he said. "Understand what happened exactly, we do not."

Qui-Gon's stomach dropped to somewhere around his ankles, and an unfamiliar panic filled him. "Obi-Wan didn't tell you? What happened to him?"

"Find him we cannot. Hope we do that his training bond he has not broken."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, tried to reach out, and gasped. "I can't tell," he said, looking at Yoda again when he could open his eyes through the pain. "My head hurts too badly." It was a strangely familiar pain, but he was unable to recognize it right now.

"Hit it hard you did, the Healers say," Yoda said. "Wait until you are better, we must. Try again you should not until allow it the Healers do."

"Yes, Master."

Apparently satisfied, the diminutive Master left the room.

Qui-Gon had no intention of waiting that long. As soon as the headache had passed, he tried again, reaching through the bond with Obi-Wan to try to find the boy. But each time he tried, the headache came back, worse than before, and he never seemed to get past the borders of his own mind. He collapsed back onto the medical couch in the Healer's Wing with a sigh and threw his arm over his eyes, trying to cut down on the pain in his head.

"You tried again, didn't you."

He squinted up at Theela, wincing at the light that hurt his eyes, and at the anger on her face. "I have to find him," he said weakly.

Her hand dislodged his arm as she pressed it to his forehead, and he let it fall to his side again. "Qui-Gon," the healer said severely, "I don't know what happened, but this pain is not from the slight bump on your head. You need to rest to let it dissipate, and if you keep trying to find your Padawan, it will only make it worse. You've noticed that, I assume?"

"Yes," he whispered. "But if it's not from the bump, then what is it from?"

He knew the answer before she could say anything. "It's a bomb," he murmured, angry now, and not a little surprised. "Someone got through my shields and laid a bomb." How had that person gotten through his shields? His eyes narrowed under Theela's hand, and he reached on purpose now, stretching through the bond to find Obi-Wan. He heard a sudden, soft click and the pain retreated, settling in his right temple. "There," he said in some satisfaction before Theela gave him a sleep suggestion he couldn't resist.

When he woke, she sat by his bed. "You are the most infuriating patient I've ever had," she said. "Even worse than your Padawan. How's your head?"

"Better," he told her.

"Good." She stood up, towering over him even more now than she did when he was standing. "If I hear of you doing anything like that again, I'll keep you asleep for a week. Understood?"

"I have to find him."

"Wait until I say you can try, or sleep for a week. I can assure you that if you wait like a good little Jedi Master, it'll be a lot shorter than a week."

He scowled at her. "I will wait."

"I will know," she warned him, and he nodded shortly. She probably would.

So he fidgeted in frustration for three days, kept in the Healer's Wing for observation, until Theela said he was well enough to try again.

But when he tried, he got nothing. Eyes wide in surprise, he sat up, closed his eyes, and reached...

Nothing. It was like hitting a wall. The bond was not broken - he knew what that felt like, thanks to Xanatos - but he could not reach Obi-Wan. Worry flooded him. Was his Padawan hurt? There was no dark feeling at the other end. There was simply nothing. He sighed and slumped a little. This was a mystery, and he was too tired to figure it out on his own. He needed someone else's wisdom, and that frustrated him more than he really wanted to think about. He continued to try to reach for Obi-Wan, coming up against that wall again and again.

"Found him have you?" Yoda asked later that day, perched comfortably on the edge of Qui-Gon's bed.

"No. I think he's blocked me."

Yoda's ears pricked. "Blocked you he has?"

"I think so." I hope so, he added silently. He didn't want to think about what it meant if Obi-Wan hadn't blocked him; there wasn't much that could block the Master/Padawan bond. He didn't really want to think about what it meant if his Padawan had blocked him, either.

"Hm." Yoda hesitated, and then sank down a little. "News, we may have," he said. "Master He'grath thought he saw Obi-Wan on Pervan. Taught him well you have, to hide and move unnoticed."

Qui-Gon touched his temple. "I didn't teach him to block me." Then he took a deep breath. "I have to find him."

"Granted," Yoda said, as if he'd asked.

It surprised Qui-Gon a little; he'd been getting ready for a battle. "Master Yoda?"

Yoda nodded. "Distracted you will be, if let you go I do not. Work to do you still have," Yoda warned. "On missions you will still go. But between them, look for your Padawan you may. Others also search," he added as Qui-Gon opened his mouth to protest. "Needed your expertise is." He fixed a stern eye on the Knight. "Go you will not until the Healers allow it," he said firmly.

Qui-Gon nodded. He'd won what he wanted. He could wait a little to accomplish it.

He was released that day and sent back to his quarters to rest. The rooms felt empty, emptier than they did even when Obi-Wan was off with his friends. Almost hesitantly, mindful of the promise he'd made years ago, he stepped into Obi-Wan's room to see if there was something that would give him a hint about where the boy had gone.

He saw the lightsaber at once.

The casing was empty, the various components set out around it. The crystal, a deep blue sapphire he'd introduced to Obi-Wan, lay sparkling in sunlight from the window. Qui-Gon reached out to brace himself on the wall, then sank to the floor in disbelief, a low moan escaping him. He understood the implications, what this meant. Obi-Wan was turning his life, his affiliation with the Jedi, everything he was to his Master for destruction. Qui-Gon reached over the bond again in some panic, trying to find his Padawan, trying to break through the block between them.

He couldn't do it. Either someone was blocking Obi-Wan with more strength than Qui-Gon currently possessed, or his Padawan was blocking him on his own. He wasn't sure which he hoped was the case.


	4. I Was Me but Now He's Gone

Ch 4: "I Was Me but Now He's Gone" - Metallica, _One_

Obi-Wan started, attention turned inward to his blocked-off bond. There was desperation and sadness leaking through from his Master, and the feeling that let him know that Qui-Gon was looking for him, worried about him. Again, the relief hit him hard that his Master - former Master? - was alive. With a short shake of his head, he turned his attention back to the man before him, reaching up to adjust the cap he had found on the first transport. It was the best way he could think of to hide his braid and the give-away haircut. It was as dirty as he felt. "I was given the name Bennet by Thane and Genie," he said. "They said I could come to the Monastery for help."

The doorkeeper smiled slightly. "I know Thane and Genie," he said. "Your last name?" Behind him stood a second man, and Obi-Wan guessed he was armed.

"Kenobi," he said.

"That is not one of ours."

"No," Obi-Wan said. "It is my own."

The man nodded. "Welcome," he said, and opened the huge doors. "Please, follow me."

The hallway he followed the man down was large enough that the Healer Theela could walk through it without ducking. It was much like the outside; built in solid, light-colored stone blocks, paved with the same. He'd enjoyed the gardens that lined the walk from the gate in the surrounding wall to the actual building. It was cooler inside, and the place fairly brimmed with peace and serenity. He thought he could come to enjoy it.

Doors lined the hallway they walked down, most of them closed. One was ajar and revealed a large room that looked to him like a cafeteria of some sort, set up with tables and chairs. It was empty, as far as he could see, but he could hear clanking pots echoing inside. He was ushered into an office near the end of the hallway, although the hallway looked like it continued on and turned to the right. A woman sat behind a cluttered desk and peered up at them. "Yes?"

"A petitioner to see Ad'lai," the doorkeeper said.

"Name?"

"He said his name was Bennet, courtesy of Thane and Genie."

For the first time, the woman smiled. "It is good to hear of them," she said, and fixed her eyes on Obi-Wan. "How long do you wish to remain?"

He hesitated a moment. "As long as I am allowed."

She nodded shortly. "Ad'lai will see him. I will find him a guide."

The doorkeeper - the man had never introduced himself - ushered Obi-Wan around the desk and to the door behind her. As they passed, Obi-Wan noted the blaster not-so-carefully concealed behind her desk. He opened the door, stepped in, and it closed firmly behind him. The room reminded him of Jocasta Nu's office, actually, simple and efficient. The desk was neat, as was the man sitting behind it. He looked up and tilted his head.

"Yes?"

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "I was told by Thane and Genie that I could find sanctuary here," he said, and was surprised to note that his voice was trembling slightly.

The man nodded slowly, then moved from behind the desk. The hover chair moved silently, and Obi-Wan took a step back as the man maneuvered around between him and the desk. "What's your name?"

"They gave me the name Bennet," he responded, and wondered if they would ever let him sit down. The walk from the edge of the town had been a long one. The conductor of the bus he'd taken as far out as he could had said it was an hour to the monastery, and he'd been surprised at the accuracy of the assessment.

"And your true name?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi."

The man fixed him with stern eyes. "Why are you here?"

He thought a moment, considering what he wanted to say. "Because Thane and Genie mentioned peace, and that it might be found here. And I would like to find it again."

"What is it you are running from?"

"Running from?" Obi-Wan stuttered, stepping back. The man's eyes narrowed, then eased, and something in his face changed.

"Most people who come for refuge here are running from something or someone," he said gently. "This place is meant to be a chance for people to remake their lives. I will not tolerate law breakers for long, but people who have paid their price and wish to change are allowed. Many of those here are reformed criminals of some sort, who do not wish to repeat their life experiences." He offered his hand to Obi-Wan. "What is it you are running from?"

Obi-Wan took it, and then found he couldn't let go. "I... In the organization I belong to, I made... a bad choice." He didn't want to think about what he'd done. "I am not answerable to the law," he added suddenly. "But there will be repercussions I am not yet willing to face."

The man held his gaze, and Obi-Wan got the impression he'd been measured by something, somehow, in a way he couldn't sense. Then the man smiled and released him. "Please, Bennet, sit down," he said, and gestured to the chair behind him. With a sigh, Obi-Wan sank into it, wondering if the use of his new name meant he'd been accepted. "My name is Ad'lai. I have set up this monastery for people like you, who wish to get away from their identity, to make a new start. I have not had a very auspicious career, and when I wished to somehow erase my past, I found that it was nearly impossible to do without help. So I started this place. Beings come to me to learn useful skills, to learn to be something other than they were. I have seen rebels, criminals, thieves and others working next to poor farmers who sold all they had to come here and learn other skills, skills that might get them better working conditions and better lives. Some come and never leave; some leave only to find those they believe I can help, like Thane and Genie. In exchange for learning new skills, I ask only that those who petition for entrance help out here, in the gardens, the kitchen, wherever they wish. There will be a dorm for you to sleep in, if you still wish to stay. If you wish to join the Monastery after a year, you will be inducted, given a private room and heavier duties.

"It is of utmost importance that you ask no questions of anyone's past. They will respect your wish to keep your past secret as well. When you leave this office, you will receive clothes and will be able to sign up for the duty roster. The duties change every two weeks, so if you find something you don't like or something you wish to try, simply sign up for the next shift. The clothes help to keep anonymity, and help in allowing people to change. We have found that it is hard to judge someone by their clothes when everyone wears the same thing. A lack of judgement - a lack of expectation that someone act a certain way because of his dress - is paramount to allowing someone to change." He leaned back in his chair. "You are young," he said. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"Your parents?"

Obi-Wan's forehead wrinkled. "I thought no one would ask about my past," he said slowly.

Ad'lai grinned. "You're fast." He sighed, and his face grew serious again. "It is a question of legality," he said plainly. "You are too young to be on your own in some systems. Some would suggest that you should return home, wherever home is."

For a tense moment, Obi-Wan thought frantically about what he'd say. Finally, he decided on the truth. "I have not lived with my parents since before my first birthday."

Ad'lai nodded. "You have a caretaker?"

"My trouble is with him," Obi-Wan said quickly. "I am apprenticed."

"I see." He paused. "If anyone questions your right to be here, send them to me." He paused after a moment. "Where is your home planet?" he asked gently.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "Why?"

"I need to do at least some kind of background check on you. Where were you apprenticed?"

Obi-Wan hesitated for a moment. "Coruscant." He hoped that the request wouldn't alert the Jedi; that would be disastrous. He'd be found in an instant.

"I will make discrete inquiries," Ad'lai told him. "If I find you have lied, I will not turn you in, but you will not be allowed to stay. Is that fair?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes, sir. Thank you."

Ad'lai touched a button on his chair, and a young woman stepped into the room through the door he'd come in through. She was taller than Obi-Wan, but blue skinned with green eyes he'd only seen in his Master's friend Tahl. She wore a dark blue tunic and skirt, much like Genie had. "Abebi, please show Bennet the duty roster, get him clothing and take him to housing. They will set you up with a place to live for the time you are here."

Obi-Wan bowed. "Thank you, Ad'lai. I will strive to do your house proud."

Both of them regarded him in surprise, then Abebi laughed and took his arm. "Come on," she said, and pulled him back through the reception room and into the hallway. In no time, he was set up in a bunk in a large dorm and given a light blue tunic and black pants to wear. "You'll want to return those to me," the woman behind the counter said, indicating his clothes. "I'll put your name on them, but if you stay long, I doubt they'll fit well. You look like you're in the middle of a growth spurt."

He nodded, a little bewildered, and took the bag she gave him to return his 'civilian' clothes to her.

"Next is the duty roster," Abebi said, and pulled him onward.

This was where he ran into his first problem. The steward who watched over the duty roster was a Coelli, a small, nervous being who reminded Obi-Wan of his friend Bant, but only distantly. He was covered with iridescent green scales except on his face, which was smooth and a pale blue. "I can't add him," he said flatly. Abebi balled up her fists.

"Ad'lai said to add him," she said just as flatly. Obi-Wan regarded her with surprise as she fought to calm down. She glanced at him with an apologetic look. "Sorry," she said, both to him and the Coelli.

"When is the next rotation?" Obi-Wan asked before the Coelli could respond.

"In a week."

"That's fine," Obi-Wan said. "I'll join then. I would like some time to myself anyway. Will that work okay?" he asked, turning to Abebi.

She considered, then nodded. "Yes, I think so."

The Coelli smiled, showing sharply pointed teeth. "What would you like to help with?"

It took only moments to work out a schedule; he would be helping with breakfast in the mornings, working in the garage until lunch, then in the garden. His afternoons, at least for a while, were free. Thanking the Coelli, he and Abebi continued on to locate his bunk and the fresher he'd use. She left him in the dorm, and he sank thankfully into the chair at a small table situated near his sleep couch which was not, as he'd envisioned, one of a two level bunk bed. Sleep couches, with accompanying desks and chairs lined the walls, five on each side. It looked nice. A door on the other end of the room made him wonder if there were more rooms on the other side.

His legs ached. But he remained there only a moment before slipping off the chair to kneel on the floor. Before long, he was oblivious to the world and the people moving around him, meditating on the peace he had not been able to find since his first panicked flight from the Temple training room.

The monastery at Bel-Meridah was exactly what Obi-Wan - Ben, now - needed. The first morning he went into the commissary for breakfast, then returned to his sleep couch to meditate. There was a lot for him to think on, although he avoided all thoughts of the battle with his Master, the one that had gotten out of hand and he'd...

He wrenched his thoughts away, turning them to where he was now, looking for a chance for peace. It was slow in coming. He spent most of each day in meditation, stopping only to eat and sleep.

The beginning of the next week was harder than he'd thought. After two hellish days of being scattered, unable to concentrate and in a bad mood, he woke earlier than usual and took time for his meditation. He figured it couldn't hurt to try that, because he didn't like his attitude and outlook on life. It was just too foreign to him. To his surprise, the connection with the Force made everything change. After seven solid days of meditation, he couldn't just stop and assume everything would be fine. His whole outlook changed that day, and he began to notice what went on around him.

Breakfast preparation was a hectic affair, but so well coordinated that it was rare anything went wrong. Much of the time was spent making sure dishes were clean, food prepared and set up in a buffet style so that the people in the monastery would be able to choose what they wanted to eat. Today, unlike the days before, he fell into the dance of preparation with an easy grace that had the other workers laughing at the change in him. But it was the kind of laugh he remembered from the Temple, where he was included and welcomed, not mocked, at least for the most part. Once he was done there - after a very satisfying breakfast for himself - he headed for the garage.

The vehicles there were mostly run-down, second-hand deals, but they did serve their purpose. Most of them seemed to be used for short trips into town for shopping or for errands, but he thought he heard someone talking at breakfast about taking one of the speeders out into the country, just to get away. For the first time, he saw a vehicle he didn't recognize, one that hadn't been there the day before. Slowly, he walked around it, trying to figure out what it was for.

"It's a plow," a woman's voice said, and he spun, startled.

"A what?"

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. She was human, dark haired, and dressed in the same dark blue as most of the others. She hadn't been there the day before, either. "Anonymity only goes so far. City boy?"

"Yes."

"It's a plow. Turns the soil over, mixes in what was left after the harvest, breaks it up so that it's easier to plant, and easier for the seeds to sprout." She tilted her head. "You must be Bennet."

"Ben," he said. "Yes. And you are?"

"Neura," she said. "How good are you at repairing things?"

He chuckled, remembering the first transport he'd tried his skills on. "Not very," he said. "But I learn fast." The last two days he'd been told to wash some of the dirtier vehicles, a job that had suited his skills and his temperament.

"Good." She called out a name he didn't catch, and a thick green Rodian soon joined them. "This is Ben," she said. "This is Pacorro. He'll help you get to know everything better." Her head tilted and she stared at him, then shook her head and grinned. "He's a good teacher."

"Then I will learn well. Thank you."

She shook her head again with a chuckle, and turned her attention to the plow.

Ben followed Pacorro over to the run-down speeder he was working on. Taking a deep breath, Ben knelt next to him and paid attention as the Rodian explained what he was doing.

He ate lunch in a state of happy exhaustion, and took Neura's advice, returning to his sleep couch for a short nap before heading outside to the gardens. He joined about ten others at one end of a field that grew something he didn't recognize, but with the supervisor's help, he was soon able to tell which was the crop they were growing and which was weed. He worked along the row, falling into a light meditative trance as he listened to the conversation around him. He'd given only non-committal comments to their attempts at conversation, wanting to be left alone right now. It was strange, but he could feel the living Force around him stronger now, and he could understand his Master's pull to it. It was relaxing, quieting, and he let it lull him into the peace he was looking for, even if it ended when the supervisor tapped his shoulder and told him he was done for the day. He decided, as he headed inside, that ignoring the others he was working with was rude.

The rest of the afternoon was his to do what he wanted to, and he took the time to explore for the two hours before dinner. He stayed within the walls, although he knew he could leave, and walked through the flower gardens, lush with foliage. Here, too, he could relax and feel the Force around him. He found a place to sit, a small stone bench, and stared at a small waterfall that ran through patches of roses and other flowers that added to the beauty of the spot. He stared into the sparkling water, flowing over rocks that glittered in the sunlight. It was so much like one of the Meditation gardens, one Qui-Gon always enjoyed.

It hit him, then, what had happened, and the first sob was almost a gasp for breath. Obi-Wan slid off the bench desperately, trying to find the peace in meditation, but it wouldn't come and he sobbed for what he'd lost, for what he'd done.

Finally, it let him go, and he took a deep, shaking breath. He breathed again, letting the tension flow out of him, releasing it into the Force. There. That was the end of it; his past life was gone, grieved for, and he could move past it now. His breathing hitched and he amended that thought. He knew better. There would be so much more, but if he hadn't let the darkness... He caught himself before the tears started again, closing his eyes against the memory of his Master's face, the look of betrayal in his eyes. Obi-Wan turned his face away, letting his grief go. Slowly, his breathing evened out, tears stopped pressing his eyes, and he let himself go deeper into a meditative trance, calming himself in the warmth of the sun and of the Force. As long as he had the Force, he thought he'd be okay. It would take a while, but he'd be okay.

Three days later, he stopped in his weeding and laughed, a joyous laugh that caused everyone else to look at him with confused expressions. "Sorry," he said, but couldn't keep his mirth contained. He'd become a farmer. He'd told Bant he'd become one, before Qui-Gon had chosen him as an apprentice and his dreams had leapt back to life. Here he was, a farmer. Yoda would have appreciated the irony.


	5. Here I am, so Alone

Ch 5: "Here I am, so Alone" - BBMack, _Back Here_

He'd been there for four weeks - which meant his schedule had changed; even as an initiate he hadn't liked helping at breakfast - when he found the weapons Saale. He stood in the doorway, stunned, watching two men sparing with what looked like quarter staves of metal. He'd seen similar weapons before, but he'd never seen men fight with them. A third man watched them, nodding in some places, and Ben was reminded of his own early training with a lightsaber. He pushed the thought away as the bout ended. "Very good," the man said, the one who'd been watching them. "Cool down a bit, then you're done."

The two men grinned at each other, and Ben thought that they looked pleased. He could only guess that the man gave out his praise seldom. He pushed away from the door, about to go on with his exploration of the large monastery.

"You don't have to watch from the doorway."

His gaze shot up to meet the observer, who was walking toward him. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to distract you."

"You didn't," the man said, and offered his hand. "I'm Merrick, weapons master here."

Ben tilted his head to the side. "What do they need a weapons master for?" he asked, and shook the man's hand.

"For those who don't know how to fight," Merrick said. "What's your name?"

"Oh. Ben. Sorry." He flushed slightly. "But I'm not sure I understand."

Merrick smiled, and turned over the hand he hadn't released. "You are able to defend yourself," he said, running a thumb over Ben's calluses, both old and new, before letting his hand go. "You choose not to carry a weapon right now. But there are others who would learn these skills in order to be the new person they are attempting to become."

"Oh." Ben drew back, wondering how much this man might know of him, and how he would know it. Just from the calluses on his hands?

"I have some time right now," Merrick said. "Care to join me on the mats?"

Ben took another step back and shook his head. "No, but thank you," he said. "Maybe another time."

Merrick smiled sadly, looking as if he might understand. "Many residents who have fought before coming here are hesitant to start with something new, afraid that it will start the same chain of violence that they are used to. I hope to see you here again," he said, and returned to his previous spot near the mats in the center of the room.

It was nearly two months before Ben made his way back to the Saale.

He was uncertain, unsure why he'd been brought here. The Force had whispered to him, lured him into the Saale, and he had become so used to listening to that voice that when it left him, he stood in some surprise, staring at the room in front of him.

Merrick was still there, overseeing a sparing match, but these two were not the same. Their movements were stiff, conscious, and they drew him in as the sure movements of the other combatants hadn't.

Or maybe it had nothing to do with the combatants, and everything to do with him.

Merrick was glad to see him. "It usually takes a much shorter time for people to return," he said, meeting Ben halfway between his chosen spot and the door. "I was wondering if you'd left."

"No."

"You have fought before?" The man's confusion came out in his hesitant words, and Ben took a deep breath, throwing off the uncertainty. He was here, and apparently, this was why.

"I have," he said, and smiled slightly. "It's been a couple of months."

Merrick eased as well. "Ever fought with a staff?"

"No."

The other man tilted his head slightly. "Interested in a sparing match?"

"With a staff?" Ben asked.

"No. Blades." He gestured to a rack that held staves, glittering silver in the light, and shorter staves that Ben finally recognized as half a staff - blades. He hesitated, but the Force pushed at him, and he nodded.

"Sounds good."

He soon found himself standing on the mats, barefooted, blade held lightly in his grip. The hilt was different than he was used to, and it was heavier, but that could have been an illusion; he hadn't held anything like this in a while. Although two months was short for him to have forgotten everything.

"I'll start slow," Merrick said, pulling him away from his thoughts.

"Yes, sir."

To Ben's surprise, he meant slow. Ben followed his blows almost clumsily, barely blocking them, not even able to think of striking offensively. He hadn't had to spar so slow since... well, a long time ago. Long before the braid graced his shoulder.

Slowly, the hilt became familiar in his hands, the weight became familiar, and his muscles began to remember what this was like. He stopped blocking at the last second, and launched his own offensive a couple of times. Merrick grinned and his own attacks gained both speed and strength. Soon they traded blows evenly, and although Ben had little need of the Force, it flowed around him, calming him. He resisted the temptation to close his eyes and fight completely with the Force - that would give too much away - but he did remember something he couldn't believe he'd forgotten. That the best move was to tire out his opponent by remaining on the defensive. Master Zichri would be disappointed, especially after the review he'd gotten from the Master two years ago.

The fight had been going for a while, and the combatants had been moving back and forth across the mats. Ben cut down on his offense, biding his time, watching for the signs of weariness. Then he moved in. It didn't take much; almost casually he struck the other man's blade to the side and stepped into the opening it gave. The metal tube was exactly parallel to the floor, just barely touching the man's throat. Ben's body was tucked in close to the other man, eyes meeting his without flinching. The other man's eyes widened in some surprise. "I concede the battle," he said.

Ben stepped back to applause and flushed when he realized it was for him. Unconsciously his thumb moved across the hilt of the blade, seeking to shut it down. For a moment, he was confused when he didn't find it.

Merrick dismissed the watching crowd with a gesture, and moved closer to Ben. "Where'd you learn to fight like that?"

"I had a very good teacher," Ben said warily, and handed the blade back to the weapons master.

"One teacher?"

"Considered one of the best."

Merrick considered him in silence. "You teach me what you just did, and I'll teach you to be as deadly with a staff as you are with a blade."

Ben didn't hesitate. "Deal," he said. It would separate him out a little, but he wouldn't be taken for a Jedi if he had a staff .

They shook hands, and Merrick pulled him closer. "That way you won't stand out as Jedi trained," he whispered. Ben stiffened, startled, his old worry about someone being in his head surfacing again before he realized it was absurd, that Merrick wasn't even Force sensitive. Merrick had already turned toward the crowd that hadn't completely dispersed, and Ben eyed him warily, wondering how Merrick had known he was Jedi trained. "We're done here," he said, eyes narrowed. "Elric. Baron. Get to work."

It took him a while to decide that he didn't have to worry about Merrick telling anyone about what the weapons master thought he was. He continued to spend his spare time in the Saale until the next rotation, and then added it to his list of duties. It felt good to have a weapon in his hands again.


	6. Now I Don’t Know What to Do

Ch 6: "Now I Don't Know What to Do" - Hanson, _Pictures_

Qui-Gon sank into the seat he'd been assigned on the liner and tried not to sigh too loudly. The mission to Dantooine hadn't been all that strenuous, but it had been time consuming and rather dull, much like most of the missions he'd been given. All had turned out well. Once he reported to the council, he intended to ask Yoda for another two weeks off. He might not get much done in two weeks, but maybe he'd get a little farther than he had last time.

He closed his eyes, braced himself, and reached down the bond...

Nothing. Just that blank wall again. He didn't even know if his Padawan was near.

With a sigh, he released his frustration into the Force, and began to work on tightening his sense of the bond. Once earlier in the week he'd thought he'd caught something that might have been pain through it, but he hadn't been able to concentrate on it. He'd been in the middle of a rather heated discussion of logging rights between the government and local loggers, and hadn't been able to even let it distract him. Still, it gave him a bit of a clue. When he'd analyzed it, later that evening, it had turned out to be a typical type of pain, as if Obi-Wan had tripped and twisted his ankle. Well, it didn't feel exactly like that, but it had been physical, and it had been his ankles or lower legs. He was sure of it.

With a deep breath, he let his muscles go loose. He hoped he was going to be able to sleep on this trip. Slowly, his breathing evened out, and he relaxed even more.

Someone touched his shoulder. "Master Jedi."

Qui-Gon started awake, surprised to find the liner had docked, and gave a mocking smile to himself in the transteel port by his seat before turning to the attendant who was waiting for him to acknowledge her. "I'm sorry," he said, and got to his feet. However, he realized he shouldn't have done it so quickly. He was stiffer than he'd realized, both from sitting too long and from the phantom ache in his side. He could only move forward very slowly until, by the time he'd reached the door, his muscles had become used to moving again.

The transport to the Temple was quick. He stepped into the large building and sighed again, relieved to be back, to be able to feel the Force in such a concentration. It wouldn't last, of course, and if the Council allowed it, he'd be gone again, but it was nice to be here. He strode across the foyer and into the hallway beyond, aiming for the lift that would take him to his quarters.

He'd barely walked in the doorway when the comm unit chimed. He waved at it, activating both audio and visual with the Force, and moved to the kitchenette. "Yes?"

There was a sigh from the other end. "It's good to hear that you're back," Mace's voice said. "The Council would like to speak with you."

Qui-Gon didn't look up as he started the teapot. "Now?"

"If it's not too much trouble."

"I'll be there shortly."

"Qui-Gon, do me a favor. I realize that you like tea, but this is ridiculous. Would you please at least pretend you care when I call you from the Council chambers?"

"I'll try," he said, and caught himself before he went on. 'My Padawan isn't here to make my tea while I'm answering stupid comm calls.' He sighed and braced his hands on the cupboard, letting his head hang for a moment. He was really glad he was out of visual range. "I'm sorry, Mace," he said, glad that his voice didn't crack, and turned around. "I'll be up in a minute."

He waved the comm off before Mace could say anymore, and turned the teapot off as well. He hesitated, but then stepped slowly toward the door to the smaller of the two bedrooms in the suite. It slid open at his approach, and he paused in the doorway.

Nothing had changed, of course. He'd cleaned up the room a little and had put the lightsaber back together - except for the power crystal - while waiting for the Healer Theela to say he could leave. It lay now on the bedside table, the sapphire sparkling even in the dim light. He turned away before his thoughts could start down the path they had taken way too many times; speculation on how much the boy had grown, why he'd gone... He couldn't think on that now; he had to meet the Council. He started back toward the hallway and heard Obi-Wan's door slide shut before the one to the hall opened. By the time he'd reached it, he was wrapped once again in the serenity expected of a Jedi Master.

His report was succinct. When he'd finished, he stood waiting for any comment, watching the Council members he could see. "Wish to go again, you do," Yoda said.

"Yes, Master. All I ask is two weeks."

There was silence in the room. Qui-Gon waited, refusing to let himself grow impatient. That would get him nowhere.

"You are allowed to go," Mace said after exchanging a look with Yoda. "Two weeks."

Qui-Gon bowed. "Thank you, Masters." He turned to leave.

"Master Jinn."

He turned back, slightly surprised at the interruption. "Yes?"

"Perhaps you should check the reports from the Knights near the Outer Rim," Depa Billaba said softly. "A friend of mine reported seeing someone that might have been your Padawan."

Qui-Gon bowed, refusing to let his emotions show. "Thank you," he said, and swept out.

He couldn't help it. Every time someone said they might have seen him, might have heard something, his heart rate sped up and his control almost snapped. He was so incredibly lonely. He paused, bracing himself against the wall, and tried to release the feelings into the Force. They wouldn't go. He snorted softly, remembering working with Obi-Wan on his fear just after the boy had become his Padawan two years ago. They'd been in their common room, facing each other in meditation, working on releasing the feelings into the Force. "They won't go, Master," Obi-Wan had said in some frustration.

"Then wait until they do," he'd responded with a calm that often seemed to frustrate Obi-Wan, although it hadn't that time.

Obi-Wan had given him a look he still didn't know how to read. "Perhaps you'd better start dinner, Master," he'd said, and there had been a resigned tone in his voice. "This may take a while."

The Knight's breath hitched and he closed his eyes to block out the hallway before him, trying to get back in control.

"This is an interesting place to stop for a nap."

He didn't answer for a moment. "Hello, Tahl," he said softly.

"Are you okay?"

He straightened with an effort and gave her a half smile he knew she couldn't see. When he opened his mouth, however, he found he didn't know how to answer her, so he closed it again. She smiled.

"I'll take that as a no. Come. I bet you haven't even had something to eat since you got back." She took his arm and began to walk down the hallway.

He didn't resist her, and she cast him a worried look. "You aren't okay," she said softly. "Was the mission that hard?"

"No." He sighed. "It's not the mission, Tahl."

She nodded. "I didn't think it was." Her hand patted his arm. "No luck?"

"I don't even know where to start," he said softly.

"I think we'll start with dinner," she said softly. "And then you need to sleep."

Qui-Gon started to pull away from her, but her grip on his arm tightened. "I know you're going to fight me on this," she continued as if he weren't already, "but think about it. I bet you're so tired you wouldn't know if Obi-Wan were here. And I warn you, my friend, that I will win."

Her words startled him, and he stopped struggling for a moment. "Why?"

Someone else took his other arm, and he stared, surprised, at Mace Windu. "Because she called for backup. You're so tired your shields weren't keeping everything in," he added in a softer voice as they continued to pull him down the hall. "We all knew how much Depa's news threw you off. She almost wishes she'd waited until she could have talked to you in private."

Qui-Gon gave up. Somewhere in the back of his head, he was glad he had such good friends. "Dinner, then," he said.

"And sleep," Tahl emphasized. "You don't really have a choice."

He laughed mirthlessly. "Very well," he said. "And sleep."


	7. You Can’t Just Leave Your Life to Fate

Ch 7: "You Can't Just Leave Your Life up to Fate" - Hanson, _Dying to be Alive_

Ben's first spar with Merrick was an interesting experience. Ben held the blade he'd gotten used to, and Merrick held the staff he was so proficient with. "It'll be a good experience for you," the weapons master had said. Ben had not liked the laughter that sounded at his words. Apparently, someone's introduction to the staff was an event, considering the crowd that surrounded the mats. Ben closed his eyes a moment to center, then grinned at Merrick and nodded.

The first blow was to his feet. It knocked him down, but he rolled with it, coming gracefully back up with his dignity still intact. From the observer's reactions, that hadn't happened often. Merrick couldn't possibly know that he'd had that happen to him already once - and it had burned. Low level lightsabers still hurt. He'd make sure not to fall for that again.

Ben lost the sparing match. It took about four blows before the blade was knocked from his hands, and the other end of the staff whistled around to cuff his ear. He, however, made sure he was not there when it arrived in the vicinity of his head. He'd had that happen, too. And fairly recently, from... He stopped the thought right there. "I concede," he said as he straightened again. Merrick grinned, and the light in his eyes let Ben know he knew something. Ben grinned back. "And one day, I will beat you, my one blade against your staff."

Merrick's grin widened. "Oh, and when you do, I want a droidcam present," he said. "But for now, how about we start you on the staff?"

Ben limped back to his quarters that evening, bruised and aching. He was also happier than he'd been in a long time. Working with his lightsaber had always been one of the things he'd enjoyed most, and his Master - former Masters, except Master Jinn - had used it against him. He paused, leaning against the door to the 'fresher, and shook his head slowly. He hadn't thought of them in a long time. Much less frustrating - but more painful - were the memories of his current Master, who'd worked with him on his skills, helped make him what he was today. He shook his head again to keep from collapsing into tears, and went to take a shower.

He woke up for his morning meditation, and was barely able to move. Kneeling stiffly on the floor, he found it harder to find his center, harder to concentrate because of the pain. Taking a deep breath, he welcomed it, thanked his body for informing him of the abused muscles, and it eased some. As he let the breath out, he sank into a light trance.

He fell into a routine. During the day, he went about his tasks and them met Merrick in the Weapons Saale. After an hour or two there, he had dinner, and woke up stiff and sore. But slowly, his muscles became used to the movements, and soon he wasn't falling out of bed into meditations; he could actually get up and move.

* * *

"No, I've never seen a Jedi. Why?"

Ben's head shot up in surprise, and he turned to the men sitting at the table behind him.

Conversations in the dining hall were usually entertaining in the evening; it was the one time everyone was there. The evening meal signified the end of work for the day, and often there were stories to be heard, when the story could be told without giving something away the teller didn't want to. These two were either long-term visitors, like himself, or were permanent staff; he'd seen them around. Those who visited for a short time did not eat with the rest, and he'd quickly become able to pick out those who would not be allowed to stay.

"Have you ever heard the stories about them?" the first man asked, incredulity in his voice. "None of those can be true."

"What have you heard?" the second asked.

"That they have these weapons of light, and they can use them to deflect blaster bolts, or burn through doors. They can fall from high up and not be hurt - or at least not as hurt as you or I would be. That they can jump really high."

"Well, it's true that they can deflect blaster bolts," Merrick said abruptly. "Although they usually try not to kill people."

That was one answered question, Ben thought as he turned to face the weapons master, who sat across from him. He'd seen Jedi in action before. That was why Merrick had known he'd been trained by Jedi.

"That's not possible," the first man said. "No one can move that fast."

"Possible or not, I saw it happen," Merrick said. "I even met the Jedi after that particular fight, in fact."

Ben perked up as much as the people around him, and he noticed Merrick's amused gaze on him before the weapons master turned back to the man he was talking to.

"What was he doing there?"

"Ending the dispute," Merrick said flatly. "If he'd been trying to, he could have killed a lot of people."

"When was this?" someone else asked. Ben wasn't able to identify the person who had asked.

Merrick paused, his eyes rolling up to look blankly at the ceiling. "About... five years ago," he said, and gave Ben another of those knowing looks.

"A Jedi, by himself? I thought they were supposed to go in pairs," the first man said, sounding almost surly.

Ben stayed perfectly still, afraid of drawing attention to himself. He really wanted to know who this Jedi was, but didn't dare ask, couldn't ask, almost afraid of the answer.

"Anyone been to Coruscant?" Merrick asked, and Ben nodded almost absently, completely against his will. To his surprise, Merrick grinned at him. Ben did _not_ like the look of that grin in the least. "Ben? You were on Coruscant?"

"Yes, sir." It felt right, and he couldn't understand why. It was almost as if the Force were in control - that was why he'd nodded.

"Were you near the Temple?"

"Yes."

"Ever see any Jedi?"

Ben took a deep breath, willing the wild laughter down that threatened to burst out of him. Had he ever seen any Jedi? "A few." Hundred, his mind added.

"In pairs?"

"Sometimes." Usually, his mind insisted. But only because everyone else housed on his residence floor was part of a Master/Padawan team, he argued back.

"Do you remember what they look like?"

Ben shrugged, trying the nonchalant gesture to see how it would work out. This was not comfortable, but he was stuck, now. "Like any other being around the galaxy," he said.

Merrick chuckled. "Any of them sport braids?"

Ben nodded slowly. "Yes. Some of the younger Jedi had braids." His hand twitched slightly, but he fought the urge to reach up and check to make sure that his own Padawan braid was tucked into his hat, out of sight. The bright strings, markers of his achievements, were no longer present, but he hadn't been entirely sure what to do with the hair that made up his braid. So he kept it braided, simply out of habit. He did not want to cut it off.

"They're studying to be Jedi," Merrick said, turning back to the rest of his audience. "Apprentices, like Marin's Kartha." The woman he pointed to blushed and laughed.

"Hopefully they're not so hopeless at their craft as I am with clay," Kartha grinned.

"Don't believe her," Marin grinned. "She's almost better than I am."

"So, who was this Jedi?" It was the first man. Ben almost rolled his eyes at his own wish to find out, knowing that there were a lot of Jedi out there, and the chance of him knowing who it was...

"His name was Qui-Gon Jinn." Merrick's grin was almost feral. "He was an unbelievable negotiator. And to answer your question, he said he had no apprentice."

Ben felt the blood drain out of his face. No wonder Merrick had known he'd been Jedi trained. The man was a weapons master - he'd probably seen hints of Qui-Gon's style in Ben's own. He didn't stay to hear any more, making his way almost blindly out of the dining hall.

As he left, he heard Merrick speaking to the original two men. "So, yes, I imagine most of the other rumors you've heard are true."

Shaking, Ben staggered into his dorm, then sagged bonelessly in his chair. There were 10,000 Jedi knights and a huge galaxy out there. How in the _world_ had he managed to run into someone who knew his Master? He could almost hear Master Yoda's voice, stern, saying "the will of the Force it is."

But why? What purpose could this chance meeting have? To remind him of what he'd lost? He knew that! He knew what he missed, every time he had to hide the braid, every time he looked in the mirror and flinched because he no longer knew the person looking back at him. With a sigh, he slipped out of his chair to the floor. He gathered his thoughts and began to meditate, searching again for the peace the conversation had driven away.

When he arrived at the training room the next afternoon, Merrick grinned at him. "You looked a little distraught last night," he said. "Sorry to put you on the spot like that."

Ben nodded. "It's okay," he said softly. "Just unexpected." He hefted the staff and smirked. "Next punishment."

Merrick grinned. "Yes," he said. "And then you begin with me."

Ben laughed. "That's going to be fun."

Merrick was a fast learner, and a good teacher. It didn't take long before their spars were posted for people to watch, and soon there were other students. One by one, Ben's other duties were reduced, but he refused to let them drop out completely. He needed the skills. He would not be able to remain at the monastery forever; if the darkness didn't find him, then his Master certainly would.

There was not a lot of change around the monastery. People came and went, but for the most part, the people Ben became friends with were a permanent part of that society. It was three months before he decided his hair was long enough to hide his braid in, and he tucked it awkwardly into the thick, short strands and pinned it up. Hopefully it would stay.

Merrick was waiting for him when he arrived in the weapons room. The weapons master grinned at him. "You look a little cooler," he said. "I imagine it gets hot in here while you're fighting."

"Much," Ben responded, and picked up the staff he'd been using. It felt comfortable in his hands; his calluses had grown because of it. He twirled it. Although he wasn't as good with it as he had been with his lightsaber, he was getting better.


	8. It’s Me Who’s Lost and Never Found

Writer's Note: Good news! The week after Christmas, I'll be out of town. Just in case I can't update that week, I will be updating more often next week. Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Ch 8: "It's Me Who's Lost and Never Found" - Dio, _Rainbow in the Dark_

"Do you have any idea how many people we get on these ships?"

Qui-Gon had no idea of this man's name, and he was even a little ashamed to discover that he didn't care. He was, at least, a minor official of the port and might be able to tell him where to start looking. "No," he said patiently, and wondered if he'd have to 'persuade' the man to tell him what he needed to know. "But there must be a lot, and I am sorry to bother you."

The man's animosity eased a little. "Would he have credits?"

"Probably not," the Master said after a moment of contemplation. "He might have bartered skills for passage, however."

"We get some of those, but most of the captains don't bother to check in if they take one of them." He paused, eying Qui-Gon. "Why are you looking?"

"I have lost... my apprentice," he said, opting for a neutral description. It was best, he felt.

The man's eyes narrowed. "Hm," he said, but added no other comment. "Most of the people who come through here are on their way to the Maitreva system."

Qui-Gon paused a moment. "Why there?"

"Because of the Monastery there. Bel Meridah. They offer anonymity and skills, and a chance to find peace, if that's what you're looking for. Care for each other, too," he added. "I had a son go there for a year. He came back much better for it, but it took him a while to get used to being called by the name we gave him."

"Why?"

"They give the residents new names, if they ask for them. My boy did - not because he was hiding, but because he wanted to see what it was like to be someone else for a while."

Qui-Gon nodded. "Thank you," he said gently. "I will look there."

"They won't let you see him," the man said as he turned to go. "Unless you know the name they've given him."

Qui-Gon smiled. "I think I will know if he is there," he said quietly, and left the cramped office. His stride lengthened as he walked toward the small ship he'd been assigned by the Council. "It won't matter if they won't let me see him," he went on as he boarded the ship and began warming it up. "Just to know where he is will be a good start."

It sounded even to his own ears like he was trying to convince himself, and he gave himself a firm shake. In just a few moments, he had his clearance and was on his way.

The journey was fairly short, only six hours, and he took that time to sleep. When he woke, he wondered if his Padawan had dreamed lately; the boy had entertained him often with tales of his dreams. Most of them were just dreams, but some had rung true, disturbingly so. With a shake of his head, he checked the bond. There was something different about it, and he felt that he was getting closer.

When he landed on Maitreva, the feeling in the Force was peace and contentment. It was strange to have those feelings so strong in the space port, but so it was. He didn't relax, requesting the location of the Monastery from a man who was very happy to help him. Public transportation was provided some of the way, and from the end of the line, the conductor pointed him in the right direction. "See those spires?" he said, pointing over the rooftops that surrounded them. "That's it. It's probably an hour's walk from here. You sure you don't want a taxi or something?"

Qui-Gon stared at the spires, reminded vaguely of the Temple, and nodded. "No, thank you, I prefer to walk."

"Good luck to you," the conductor said, and the bus rumbled smoothly off as he closed the door.

The walk was nice. The houses gave way to well cared-for fields, and those gave way to a dense, uncultivated forest. The road was well kept, patched and irrigated, he found out when he was surprised with a short but heavy rain fall. Just after it ended, he emerged from the forest and could see the monastery.

It was a heavy stone building, off-white in color, with three soaring spires that shone in the sun. A wall surrounded it, but the gate was open. The area the wall surrounded was much larger than the building, and he wondered what they kept on the grounds. He'd find out when he got there.

Immediately upon entering the gate, he noticed the gardens. They lay on either side of the walkway; to his left was a well sculpted flower garden that would have done the Temple proud, and on his right was an ordered produce garden. It was lush, beautiful, and he could nearly breathe in the Living Force that existed there. People were in the gardens, weeding from what he could tell, and although they watched him pass, they did not speak to him or even wave.

He wasn't very far inside the gate when he realized that his sense of Obi-Wan was very strong - at least in comparison to what it had been since he'd woken up in the Healer's Wing with a headache. His Padawan was here, somewhere in that building, and if Qui-Gon had to immerse himself into this monastery to find the boy, he would.

Qui-Gon hadn't even reached the end of the gardens when the comm on his belt chimed. He stopped in utter disbelief, his hand automatically going to his belt. The Force insisted than he answer it, and he was too used to following those suggestions that he slowly pulled it off his belt. "Yes."

"You don't sound happy."

Qui-Gon growled under his breath. "What is it, Mace."

"I'm sorry, Qui-Gon. We need you back here."

"Mace..."

"If it wasn't urgent, we wouldn't call you," Mace shortly. "Chancellor Valorum asked for you specifically. He said you had a hand in the situation that's deteriorated on Isserstedt, and you could help it. We need you back here."

"Mace, you don't understand. I just need to check on something." He was trying to remember Isserstedt, what it was he'd done, the situation, almost before the words were out of his mouth. He dismissed the thoughts; they wouldn't go.

"Then explain it to me."

The tone in the Master's voice was one that Qui-Gon knew he couldn't refuse.

"It'll take too long."

"If you can't explain it, Qui-Gon, then you have no time to check, either. I know you want to find Obi-Wan, but this is _not_ something we can let go. You know that."

Qui-Gon sighed in frustration. "Okay. I've got an hour walk back to my ship, I'll contact you for more details when I get there," he said shortly. "Out." He shut off his comm and slammed it onto his belt harder than necessary.

Taking a deep breath that was meant to calm him, Qui-Gon eyed the door. H e was tempted to try to see if he could get in, but even as he took a step toward the door, the Force urged him back toward town. It was unbelievable. First Obi-Wan (no, not Obi-Wan. The darkness), then the Council, and now the Force was against him. He turned his back on the door and strode from the courtyard, trying very hard to release his anger into the Force.


	9. Two Worlds Apart

Ch 9: "Two Worlds Apart" - Backstreet Boys, _I Want it That Way_

Obi-Wan couldn't stop shaking. He watched Qui-Gon Jinn walk away from the doors with an unidentifiable feeling. He had been helping Davie watch the front entrance, and had drawn back so he would not be seen as soon as he recognized the being walking down the path toward them. As soon as the Jedi turned the corner at the gates, he sagged against the wall behind him. That had been too close. He had no idea why Qui-Gon had turned around, who had been on the comm link, but Obi-Wan had been sure he was going to be found.

"Hey, Ben. You okay?"

He jerked his eyes back to Davie; he'd forgotten he was even there. He swallowed, hard, and nodded. "Yes. I'm fine."

"You're white as a ghost, man. You know him?"

Ghosts aren't white, he thought, and it struck him as funny. He couldn't stop the laugh that burst out of him.

"Ben?"

It took him a while to regain control. "What?"

"Did you know him?"

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yes."

"Who was he?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Someone I knew," he said vaguely. "I didn't expect him to find me, though."

"What made him leave?"

"Looked like he got a message or something." He closed his eyes and found his center again, reestablishing his equilibrium. When he opened them again, he grinned. "Good luck for me," he said, his mind already working, getting ready to leave, even if he had to sneak out of the Monastery. But he didn't think he'd have to.

Even as he considered where he'd go, he realized that there was no urgency in the Force. And to be honest, he wasn't sure he didn't want to be found. It was nice here, true, but it wasn't the Temple, and the thought only served to emphasize how homesick he really was. It wasn't just the Temple, either. He missed his friends, his Master, even the council... He didn't know if they'd even let him back, but maybe there was a chance, maybe if he explained. He shook his head and turned his thoughts back to the objective at hand. The best time to leave was at duty rotation. That was in a week. If Master Jinn returned before then, he'd take it as a sign that he should go back to the Temple. Otherwise, he'd just go. Because there was also a chance they'd never let him speak.

He knew better than to go into his lesson with Merrick distracted. He'd gone to his lightsaber lesson like that once in the Temple and had paid for it with burns across his face. Qui-Gon had been apologetic - and disappointed. His disappointment had echoed down the bond between them. But he went, forgetting that lesson until he was suddenly flat on his back, his left ear ringing.

"You can't lose concentration like that," Merrick growled.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, closed his eyes and centered again. It took a while to dismiss the worries and plans that had cluttered up his mind, but when he opened his eyes again, Merrick offered him a hand up. "What's wrong? You blocked that blow the first time I tried it on you, and now that you've had some training, it went right through your guard."

Obi-Wan took the proffered arm and got to his feet. "I'm leaving," he said simply. "At the end of the week."

Merrick paused, eyeing him. "Someone get too close?"

"They almost found me, yes," he said.

Merrick regarded him for a moment. "Don't take this wrong," he said slowly. "How much trouble are you in?"

Obi-Wan hesitated. "I was... apprenticed," he said carefully, knowing that Merrick would read more into that. He knew what Obi-Wan had been. "I was... coerced to injure someone very important." The words were hard to say. It was the first time he'd said what he'd done, out loud, even if it wasn't direct. The look of shock and betrayal that had flashed across Master Jinn's face... He clenched his teeth and turned his attention to Merrick.

The Weapons master nodded slowly. "Important to whom?"

Obi-Wan didn't know how to answer that, so he shook his head. Merrick made a frustrated noise. "Are there legal implications?"

"No," Obi-Wan answered quickly. "It was completely internal."

Merrick nodded. "Why are you staying until the end of the week?"

"The one who came close," Obi-Wan said slowly, thinking on how to say what he wanted to, "was called away before he was able to get to the door. I..." He paused. "I don't feel that there is any urgency for me to go right now."

Merrick nodded slowly. "Thinking that it might not be so bad to go back?"

Obi-Wan shrugged slightly. "It crossed my mind. If m... If he returns before I leave, I will take it as a sign that I should return. Otherwise..." He spread his hands out. "I leave it up to fate."

Merrick thought for a minute, then nodded shortly. "Up to fate it is," he said. "Until then, concentrate." He punctuated his order with a strike with the staff. This time Obi-Wan blocked it with his own.

At the end of the lesson, Merrick stopped him from leaving. "I know you have to leave," he said with a grin that Obi-Wan did not quite trust. "What do you say to a last match? You with a blade against me with a staff? It would be interesting to see how it went."

The smile started slow on Obi-Wan's face. "Yes," he said. "The day before I leave? You would definitely get all the audience you could want."

Merrick laughed. "That's not why I wanted to do it," he said. "It would be a good test of how well I taught you."

Obi-Wan nodded. "I'll work hard, then," he said, and left. He walked quickly to the gardens, to the waterfall he'd found during his first few days and knelt next to it in meditation, wanting to know if this decision was right. When he went in for dinner, he still was not sure.

The morning before he planned to go, he started suddenly out of his meditation, shuddering. The darkness was creeping closer, somehow... It could not be Qui-Gon; there was no darkness around him. And yet, so soon after seeing his Master...

He started to simply go through his day, but by mid-morning, the Force was screaming at him to leave. He could no longer ignore it. Lurching to his feet, abandoning his work in the garden, he set off at a run for the Monastery.

Once by his bed, however, he paused to gather his thoughts, not entirely sure how to leave. His bag was already packed, except for some things he quickly added. Then, not willing to leave without saying good bye to Merrick, he made his way to the weapons Saale.

Merrick caught sight of him and beckoned him in, then his eyebrow lifted as he took in the bag Obi-Wan wore on his shoulder. "You're leaving now."

"I am," Obi-Wan said, and glanced nervously around. Even this was taking too long; the Force wanted him gone. "I... I can't explain. Thank you, for your friendship and training." He grimaced. "I would have enjoyed the match this afternoon. And I will come back for it," he added almost impulsively, but the Force echoed his sincerity, and he knew he would. "I'm sorry," he added, and winced at how lame it sounded.

"Whatever you're running from, it's caught up with you," Merrick said. "I can see it in your eyes. Go. If you need help, I'll be here."

Obi-Wan nodded, relieved. "Thank you, again, for everything."

"Thank you," Merrick said. "It has been a pleasure working with you. Don't forget this." He tossed a small object at Obi-Wan, who caught it.

It was heavy, a dull silver object about the length of his lightsaber, although thicker. The ends were the circumference of the staff he'd been using, but from the end to the base were five closely packed layers. A button was in the center of the base, recessed, with a guard to keep it from being pressed on accident. He knew, from what Merrick had told him, that the handle was insulated against hot or cold. Obi-Wan glanced at Merrick, then held the object away from him, parallel to the floor, and pressed the button.

The staff extended in a snap, taller than he, balanced perfectly in his hand. Obi-Wan stared at it, then turned his gaze to Merrick, his thumb fumbling for the button again, getting messed up on the guard in his shock. It finally collapsed back into the size he could wear on his belt. "I can't take this," he stuttered.

"Yes, you can. I get to choose who gets them, and we've got plenty right now. You'll use it right, Ben. Take it."

"But I can't..."

"Then consider it a loan, and return it when you come back for our battle."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest, then Merrick's words sank in and he nodded. "Thank you."

"They'll think you got scared of the match this afternoon."

"You and I will both know better," Obi-Wan said quietly. "That is all that matters." The staff went onto his belt so easily, naturally, and the weight made him feel much better already. "Thank you again."

At Merrick's nod, he turned and left the Saale, went to get street clothes - not his, he'd long out grown them - and the promised credits for the bus ride once he reached the edge of town, and then he left the Monastery. The walk into town was quiet, but he still felt on edge, still felt like he was being hunted by the darkness. When he caught the bus at the end of the line, he sank down into a seat in the back, studiously ignoring everyone and everything. He wrapped his Force sensitivity even closer about him than he did his cloak, and remained that way even after he'd gotten work on a ship and was away from the planet.


	10. Pain Makes it so Hard to Understand

Ch 10: "Pain Makes it so Hard to Understand" - Vinnie Vincent Invasion, _Love Kills_

It always seemed to begin and end here, Qui-Gon thought as he paced outside the Council Chamber doors. He hadn't been waiting long, but he was determined to get some time in looking for Obi-Wan before they assigned him one of the typical missions. He'd had enough of the peaceful, diplomatic fare. This last one had been more to his taste, but it had also shown him how much he had come to rely on Obi-Wan at his side.

He turned his mind to his report. He'd already spoken with Chancellor Valorum, and had only to report to the Council and... He scowled, a little irritated, and forced himself to stop pacing. His thoughts were running in circles, and it was not something that had occurred recently. It had been happening more and more the last few months as he struggled with a blocked off training bond. _:See what you've done to me:_ he thought wistfully down the bond he shared with Obi-Wan. As usual, he got no response. The door opened as he rolled his eyes at his thoughts, and he entered the Council chamber.

Stopping in the center of the floor, he faced Yoda and Mace, eyes unfocused between them. "The situation on Isserstedt was as bad as the Chancellor believed it to be," he began. "The two children of rival families ran away together. They had become friends at school when they were younger, had remained friends, and did not wish to be separated because of the animosity between their families. When I arrived, the families had resorted to killing each other's retainers, each sure that the other had taken their child." He paused, sorting it out. "I found the two boys in the forest outside the main city, cheerfully ignorant of what was going on at home. When we returned, there were more repercussions." He paused.

"Those were from the boys themselves," he said calmly. "Both were in their late teens, both heirs to their fathers. They made it quite clear, in separate sessions to which I had been invited, that they would take no more of this rivalry. Before I left, they were working out reparations for the families of those killed."

Qui-Gon fell silent and turned his attention first to Yoda, then to Mace, who nodded slowly. "Thank you, Master Jinn," he said.

It had been a delicate mission, and Qui-Gon was glad that the Chancellor had asked for him. The boys had nearly had their fathers executed before he'd talked them down. That Finis Valorum trusted him was a good sign. That he had lost a possible clue to where his Padawan had gone was not. He pulled his thoughts together and gazed at the gathered Masters. "I believe I know where I might find a clue to Obi-Wan's location," he said carefully when no one said anything more. He had the feeling they were waiting for him to ask, anyway.

Mace nodded. "We sent someone to follow up on that lead," he said.

Qui-Gon clenched his teeth, willing his fury to back down. "Did they find anything?" he asked, but he knew his voice was too controlled.

Mace knew it too, and gave him a sharp look. "They were unable to gain entrance."

Qui-Gon took a deep breath, releasing his anger with his breath. "I wish to visit the Monastery myself," he said shortly.

The Council was silent, but he could feel the communications in the Force. After a few moments, Mace nodded. "Very well," he said.

"Be cautious you must," Yoda said. "Run will your Padawan, if too close too fast you approach."

Qui-Gon nodded his thanks for the warning and swept from the room.

Tahl was waiting at the door to his quarters. "You look better," she said approvingly, and he shot her a look he knew she couldn't see. "Off again?" He'd given up trying to figure out how she knew how he looked when he knew she was blind.

"I..." His door slid open and he stepped in, tugging her sleeve so she followed. "Yes." He could use a bit of friendly conversation.

"Do you know where?"

"Yes. Maitreva system."

She leaned against the doorway to his room as he traded things in his pack, adding distinctively non-Jedi clothing he'd change into while he was en route. "Why?"

"I was three hundred meters from the door at the monastery of Bel-Meridah when Mace called me for this last mission, and I would have sworn I felt Obi-Wan there."

She straightened. "Do you think he's still there?"

"If not, I'll see if I can get some kind of clue from someone there."

"They're very private."

"I'll be discrete."

She laughed. "You?"

He turned to her with a scowl. "Yes." He knew better than to add anything else; her wit was biting at best, and right now, it was something he was not willing to entertain. He heard her move and turned to watch where she went, following her to Obi-Wan's doorway after grabbing his refreshed bag.

She paused in the doorway, then stepped in and moved to the sleep couch, sitting in the center. "Your touch is all over this room," she said, surprise in her voice.

"I had to... wait," he said shortly, and continued when she looked to him in confusion. "Before the Healers said I could go after him. And so I had to do something."

"You cleaned his room?" she teased gently.

"I restored his lightsaber," he responded quietly, and was surprised when his voice remained steady. "He'd taken it apart, offered it up to be destroyed." He turned and was out into the hallway by the time she caught up with him.

"I didn't know."

"Only Mace and Yoda know," he responded. "I will not let him do that without a good reason. And I have to hear that reason."

She didn't respond during the long walk to his transport. Reaching out to grasp his sleeve before he could board, she turned him to face her. "Please tell Obi-Wan that my Padawan misses him when you find him," she said softly.

He took her hand and squeezed it. "I will. Tell her not to give up hope. I will find him." He turned to board the small two-man ship, and heard her say "may the Force be with you" as the door closed behind him. He settled into the pilot's seat, started up his ship, and sent it out into the traffic of Coruscant.

When he reached the door at the Monastery, the feeling was gone. Or rather, it was no longer there. He sighed in disappointment, but applied for entrance anyway. Someone would know if Obi-Wan had been here. And he was not surprised to find that the boy was gone. The council had sent someone his Padawan probably didn't know to find him, and that would have been enough for him to run.

Getting in was relatively easy, and he had to wonder at why it had been so difficult for the other Jedi to get in. Perhaps he had said he was looking for someone? It was more than a matter of knowing the right words to say, however; and he'd been honest when he'd said he was searching for peace. He'd actually said he'd like to experience the Monastery before committing. Ad'lai had probably seen through his half-lie, but the man had allowed him to stay anyway.

There were conditions, of course. If he wished to see the Monastery, he had to have a guide. And he could not stay long, no more than two or three days. It should be enough. Luckily for him, the person who arrived to guide him after he'd requested a chance to look around did not mind where they went first. There was a lot to see, but Qui-Gon was less interested in the building and more in finding someone who might be able to tell him about his Padawan. Casting out with the Force, he paused a moment before going any farther, and he reached out to stop the woman who was accompanying him. "What's down there?" he asked, pointing down the passageway to his left, where the Force tugged on him to go.

She smiled. "There's the weapon's Saale, the cafeteria for those who stay for an extended time, and classrooms."

"May I see the weapon's Saale and the cafeteria?" he asked.

"Of course," she said.

"Thank you," he said, and tried not to stride off too fast and leave her behind.

He found himself at a doorway, watching ten beings work through one of the easier lightsaber katas, holding what looked like metal tubes. All of them moved gracefully, perfectly, following the man who stood in front of them. It was not Obi-Wan, but he did know him. He waited quietly for the group to be finished before stepping into the Saale. Not knowing how to address the man he knew as Kevlin Furst, he simply nodded at him when he was noticed.

Kevlin half raised his hand in greeting and opened his mouth to call to him, then he stopped and gestured for silence before approaching. "I'm Merrick," he said quietly, wariness in his tone.

"It is good to see you again, Merrick," Qui-Gon said.

"Funny that I should run into you," Merrick told him, relaxing a little. "I ran into one of your fellows a while ago."

Qui-Gon gestured at the group, which had paired off and was sparing lightly. "I guessed so," he said.

"I thought you might. How long are you staying?"

"I don't know. Maybe not long at all, if you're willing to tell me about this friend of mine who was here."

Merrick lifted an eyebrow. "What makes you think your friend isn't here?"

Qui-Gon considered. "That is a topic for a more private conversation, if you're willing."

Merrick hesitated, then nodded slowly. "I might be," he said. "Care for an... exhibition?"

Qui-Gon gave him an incredulous look. "What?"

"I've learned a lot since we last met," Merrick said, "And I think I can hold my own." He held up a hand as Qui-Gon started to decline. "If you'll spar with me, using my blade instead of yours, perhaps we could talk after dinner."

He hesitated only a moment. It was a small price to pay for possible information. "Let me see what you mean," he said.

Merrick was waiting for his reaction, he could tell, so he didn't guard it, taking the strange metal tube from him with some appreciation. He swung the blade, adjusted his grip and swung again, then nodded. "This was your idea," he told the weapons master. "You set the pace."

Merrick grinned widely and shouted for everyone to clear the mats. They did so with alacrity, and a couple even grabbed comm links off their belts and spoke quickly into them.

"You do this a lot?" the Jedi asked, shrugging a little to get comfortable in the clothes that were nothing like his normal tunics.

"Often enough," Merrick answered. "We'll start slow until you get a better handle on that thing."

Qui-Gon nodded. "Sounds good."

The battle quickly accelerated once it had begun. The blows were hard on both sides. Qui-Gon noticed that Merrick was watching him closely, almost analyzing his style, and grinned. With an almost casual blow, he knocked the man's blade to the side and stepped in, his own parallel with the floor at Merrick's throat, body tucked in close, eyes on his opponents.

"And I concede," Merrick said, and there was something in his smirk that Qui-Gon wasn't sure he liked. "I'd like to see you work against a double-bladed weapon."

Qui-Gon handed his weapon back. "I don't know that I'll be around for another match," he said. "A lot depends on what you have to tell me."

Merrick nodded. "Meet me for dinner tonight. If I can tell you anything, I'll do it then." He gestured to the beings still milling around after the match, and Qui-Gon nodded in understanding.

He told his guide that he wanted to return to his dorm, and once there he settled down on his sleep couch, a little disturbed. He couldn't understand what had happened; something had changed in Merrick's eyes just before he'd conceded the fight. Something he couldn't define. Taking a deep breath, he released the frustration into the Force. Worrying about it would do him no good at all.

Dinner was simple, and Qui-Gon enjoyed the food as much as the conversation around him. It reminded him, in a way, of the Temple, and he wondered if Obi-Wan had felt as comfortable here as he was. Once he'd finished with the soup he'd chosen, Merrick gestured for him to follow, and they walked out into the gardens.

After a long silence, Qui-Gon took a breath. "Where did you learn the forms I saw when I first walked into your Saale?"

Merrick chuckled. "I was wondering when you'd get to that." He stopped and turned to look at Qui-Gon. "I can't give you much information," he said.

"Just knowing he was here will give me a start," Qui-Gon said.

Merrick shook his head. "Who are you looking for?"

Qui-Gon turned and started walking again. "I won't give you his name; he'll have changed it, I presume, to keep as anonymous as possible." He glanced around and smiled slightly. "He is my Padawan, my apprentice."

Merrick's hand on his arm stopped him, and he turned. "He's your..." The man seemed confused. "Were you anywhere near here three weeks ago?"

"Yes. I was called away before I reached the front door. I'm sure he was here, but..." He shrugged the frustration off.

"Do you have a holo?"

Qui-Gon chuckled. "Well, no. Never thought of it."

"What does he look like?"

Qui-Gon thought a moment, calling up a vision of Obi-Wan in his mind, wondering how much the boy had changed. "Slender," he said. "Red-brown hair, cut short, with a thin braid on the right side." He paused, eyes unfocused. "His eyes are a blue grey, and he is quick to smile. He learns quickly, and adapts to any situation well..." He drifted off a moment, not sure if that was the kind of description Merrick meant. "His hands are slender, the fingers long. He stands tall, without slouching. He is not - was not, when he left - much taller than my shoulder."

Merrick regarded him for a moment. "If he was your apprentice, he didn't have a braid."

He felt the blood drain from his face. "That wouldn't surprise me," he said softly. "He... Something went wrong," he said, louder. "I'm not sure what he thinks, but he does not believe he belongs with us any more."

"Does he?"

Qui-Gon turned hard eyes on him. "I don't know myself. That is why I need to find him."

Merrick nodded slowly. "He was haunted when he left. Said he'd been found."

"Did he say by whom?"

Merrick chuckled slightly. "No. But Davie said he went white while they were watching the door just before he left."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes a moment. "Three weeks ago? I was called away just before I reached the door."

Merrick looked at him seriously. "He's a good kid. I don't know what he thinks he's done, but it wasn't in malice."

The Jedi nodded. "I will keep that in mind." I need to know, he thought. It was somewhat redundant. But it didn't make his need any less.


	11. It’s Time for Me to Leave

Ch 11: "It's Time for Me to Leave" - Backstreet Boys, _Not for Me_

Obi-Wan Kenobi stood somewhat nervously before the pilot of the small chancellor ship, waiting to hear what the man might have to say. "We are in need of a mechanic," he said gruffly. "Can you give me any references?"

"I learned most of what I know at Bel-Meridah," Obi-Wan said almost helplessly. Using the name was something he didn't want to do, but it seemed to be the only thing that would get him a job to some of the places he wanted to go. Not that he really wanted to go there, it was more a case of getting away. The dark feeling was tracking him almost as relentlessly as his... as Master Jinn. "You can certainly..."

"Bennet Kenobi?" the pilot interrupted, confirming the name Obi-Wan had told him, and when Obi-Wan nodded, he gestured sharply. "Wait here." He vanished into the ship and returned a few minutes later. "Very well," he said. "They vouch for you there. Welcome aboard, Bennet. I'm Nai."

"Ben, please. And thank you."

He no longer looked like a Jedi Padawan. His red hair had been bleached by the sun on Maitreva III, and had grown long enough to brush his chin. He'd become adept at hiding the braid he couldn't bear to cut off, pinning it up in his hair most of the time. This was the third job he'd had since leaving the Monastery about one step ahead of the darkness. There was little to be felt through his training bond now, although he had soon found out that he could tell that Qui-Gon was getting close through it. He'd learned thanks to the time his Master had nearly found him.

Obi-Wan followed the pilot on board and introduced himself to the head mechanic, who smiled tightly. "Glad to have you, Ben. I'm Jaklitsch, call me Jak. We don't expect too much trouble with the engines, but it's nice to have an extra body on board." He glanced down at the staff, collapsed now and hung on Obi-Wan's belt, and his smile widened. "It'll be really nice to have someone who can fight besides the guards. Just in case."

"Expecting trouble?"

"Always," Jak said with a tense grin. "Especially right now. Come on. I'll show you where you'll sleep."

The room held four bunks, three of them full. With a grin, Obi-Wan set his bag on the empty bunk, and turned to meet his roommates. They were mechanics as well, and didn't seem to mind his presence. In fact, they welcomed 'another poor soul unable to escape.' "At least," Jak told him, laughing, "until we reach home and decide if we want to get out then."

Obi-Wan joined in the laughter, and he was amazed that there was no bitterness in it. He noted, however, that in spite of the tension, they all loved their jobs and were very loyal to the Ambassador. The jokes were simply that.

The trip was not as uneventful as the mechanics had hoped. They were traveling through hyperspace when the engines gave a strange sounding whine and dropped them into real space with a jerk before quitting altogether. Obi-Wan left his quarters and the Sabaac game behind him, reaching with the Force to find out what he could.

Worry on the bridge, the passengers were sleeping, violence in the hold... He shot forward at a run, grabbing the staff from his belt as he slipped through the door to the hold. The last of the Ambassador's present guards fell as he leaped forward to confront the invaders, the staff snapping to full length. The small party of invaders - pirates, from the way they were dressed - were surprised enough that he was able to take them down fairly quickly. Obi-Wan had enough time to reach the comm unit on the wall and call for reinforcements before a second landing party appeared through the tunnel attached to the hole burned into the side of the ship. He moved quickly to intercept them.

Someone shoved him back toward the wall and he heard blasters fire all around him as he fell and slid across the floor. He was back on his feet before the last invader fell, and the pirate ship disengaged and disappeared before they could retaliate. Shields slammed down before everyone in the hold was pulled into the vacuum of space.

"What were you thinking?" one of the guards demanded, turning on him with fury in his face. "You were in the way so we couldn't get a shot at them!" Obi-Wan just stared at him and didn't answer.

"He was thinking he'd give us time to get here," the Captain of the Guard said, a man Obi-Wan had never met. "He did a good job." He turned to Obi-Wan. "Did you know you were injured?"

"What?"

The Captain stepped forward. "You're injured," he repeated, and turned. "Rick. Get this mechanic to the infirmary, then report back here." The Guard that stepped forward nodded at his Captain and at Obi-Wan, who nodded back wearily.

They were half way to the infirmary when the adrenalin wore off. His side began to burn, interrupting his light meditative state. Obi-Wan gasped and stumbled, fighting to keep himself upright. He'd found it difficult to walk and concentrate on keeping himself centered even at the best of times. "How bad are the engines?" he asked, trying to keep his mind off the burning in his side.

Rick snorted a laugh, reaching out to steady him. "Worry about that later," he said. "They'll use your help when you can give it."

"Oh, great," Obi-Wan muttered, disengaging himself. "I'll lose my job for sure."

The door to the infirmary opened, and Rick helped Obi-Wan sit down on one of the medical couches. The guard gave him a smart salute and left as the droid ordered Obi-Wan to remove his shirt. It took him a minute to do so. Before the droid could even start burn treatment, Obi-Wan remembered his training again, accepted the pain, let it go, and dove headlong into a Healing trance.

When he came out of it, the droid gave him two messages. The first he'd known as soon as he woke up: the engines had been repaired and they were on their way again. The second was that the Ambassador wanted to see him, and would call him when he was ready. Moving stiffly, he got up and dressed in his one set of clothes. They had been cleaned at least, but there was nothing to be done about the grease stains or burn marks on them. With a sigh that hitched with the faint, left-over pain, he grabbed his staff, hooked it to his belt, and returned to his quarters.

The room was quiet except for the snores of one of the mechanics, and Obi-Wan sat gratefully at the table. The remains of the Sabaac game were still there, and he looked them over. Whoever had been sitting across from him had won, he thought, glancing at the cards. The money was gone, of course. He closed his eyes to meditate until the guard came saying the Ambassador was waiting to see him.

"What's your name?"

Ambassador Mahália was a small man, but Obi-Wan could feel the power in him. It was the same kind of power Obi-Wan had noticed in some of the senators from other planets - and not noticed in others. He was the ambassador for Kapunen, a small plant near the rim. Obi-Wan remembered it vaguely from his reading for a mission; it was overrun by slavers, and from what he remembered, this ambassador had been trying to get rid of those slavers for a long time. The ambassador had a stern face and the lines about his mouth and dark eyes spoke of worry and conviction. His clothes were economical, as if he were expecting something to go wrong and he wanted to be ready.

"Ben Kenobi." The name was amazingly comfortable now. But after nearly a year, it should be.

"How are you on my ship?"

"I asked your pilot for a job. He said he needed a mechanic, and I told him I could do that. He checked out my references. I just wanted transport off Gendl."

"To where?"

"It didn't matter," Obi-Wan said. "I want to see the galaxy, and trading my skills for passage has been a good way to do it." It wasn't quite a lie.

The Ambassador fell silent. "Are you finished seeing the galaxy?" he asked after a moment.

"Why?" He couldn't help it; wariness crept into his tone.

"Because Captain Phyra suggested you'd be a good body guard for my daughter."

"Aren't I a little young for that?" he asked.

The Ambassador shook his head. "You would only be the last line of defense," he said. "And for that, you are the perfect age. If things continue to go the way they are," he added with a twist to his mouth, "You may have to take her into hiding, and you are not too old to be her brother."

Slowly, Obi-Wan nodded, wondering how thoroughly he'd been checked out - both by Nai and by Ad'lai. "Very well, then."

The ambassador nodded briskly. "Good. Sit down. I have to explain this situation." His eyes narrowed as Obi-Wan took the chair to his left. "What do you know of Kapunen?"

"Not much."

"We are a stopping point and... prime hunting grounds for slavers," the ambassador said, pacing the small room. "I think it is because the people have been peaceful, and we have not, in the past, had very good security. It is difficult, but the system is slowly pulling together to get rid of them. I am beginning to have some success, with the help of the governors on the moons and planets of my system - and that means that the slavers are beginning to be threatened. They have passed those threats on to me, and to my family. Captain Phyra suggested that I find bodyguards for each of my children, in case I have to hide them. Are you interested?"

"Yes, sir," he said, and didn't even need the Force nudge to make up his mind.

So he found himself no longer running, and as soon as they landed on Kapunen, he was turned over to the man in charge of the guards. He fit into the Ambassador's household very well, physically as well as professionally. He wore the dark blue livery with the ease of long practice. It was not so different than the Jedi uniform he'd grown up with. The long blue cloak was even comforting because he'd missed the weight of his old one. He spent mornings in training, both in fighting and in the proper etiquette necessary for living with the Ambassador. His time in the evenings was taken up with the escape route he'd take with his charge in case of an emergency that loomed closer daily, studying the maps and running it on his own in the dark so he knew what he was doing and where he was going. Afternoons were spent getting to know the eight year old girl he was going to be guarding.

Regina was small and shy, a younger daughter but much loved. Her dark eyes stared up at him when they were introduced, and he quickly accommodated her by kneeling down so she was taller than he. "Hi," he said gently. "I'm Bennet, but most people call me Ben. In fact, I forget that my name is Bennet most of the time, so it might be better to not bother with that name."

She smiled shyly. "I'm Regina."

"It's good to meet you, Regina," he said.

She took a deep breath. "Would you care for a walk in the gardens?"

He smiled and stood. "That would be nice."

They walked there often his first few days, and he learned a lot about her, and about her father. She introduced him to her favorite game, something called Bacqueri, and they spent a lot of time playing. Well, he spent most of his time losing. It helped Regina keep her mind of the threat that loomed over her family, the bag she kept packed in her wardrobe in case she had to slip out. As the days passed and the threats became more creative and came more often, she seemed to cling to her cheer in the garden with some desperation he hoped she would recover from when this was all over.

The attack was almost a relief. By the time the alert went off, jerking much of the family awake, Obi-Wan was awake and moving down the hall to Regina's room. When he emerged with the girl, the five guards assigned to them were waiting, and they moved quickly in the middle of them toward her escape route. By the time they reached the transport, they'd lost four, and the fifth stood resolutely in the doorway to block their escape as they took off. Once they were away, skimming low over the ground until they could get off planet, Obi-Wan gathered the weeping girl into his arms and gave her a gentle sleep suggestion. She slumped against his shoulder, and he lay her on the thin sleep couch in the quarters behind the bridge, wishing her a good sleep. Then he returned to the controls and started calculating what he would have to do to get her to safety.


	12. Your Demons Do They Ever Let You Go

Ch 12: "Your Demons... Do They Ever Let You Go" - Dio, _Rainbow in the Dark_

Qui-Gon stood before the Council, the serene Jedi he was supposed to be, at least on the outside. They all knew of his search, knew also of his bargain with Yoda. They knew why he was here perhaps a little later than they would have liked. They also knew - because he knew his shielding wasn't holding as well as it usually did - how tired and frustrated he was.

"Something to report, have you?" Yoda asked.

Qui-Gon took a deep breath. "Obi-Wan was at the monastery of Bel-Meridah until about a month ago," he said. "At least, I believe so. The Monastery is... very protective of the people who stay there. Without knowing the name he'd been given, I could not ask about him specifically."

"What makes you believe so?" Mace asked.

"The weapons master was leading a group through the first Kata when I arrived," Qui-Gon said. "And while he could not tell me for sure - there was no name we knew in common, and I do not have even a holo of my Padawan - I believe he was there." He sighed softly, releasing his lingering frustration into the Force. "And I believe that if I hadn't been called away earlier, I would have found him there."

"Where will you look now?" Adi Gallia asked. He turned to face her.

"I'm not sure," he said calmly. "I will meditate and wait for the Force to guide me."

She smiled and nodded, and he turned back to Yoda. "Have you a mission for me?"

Yoda watched him for a moment. "No," he said. "For three days you will remain. If no mission we have, go again you may."

Chafing inside at the forced inactivity, Qui-Gon bowed. "Yes, Master," he said.

"May the Force be with you," Mace said, his benediction also a dismissal.

With a second bow, Qui-Gon left the chambers.

He did not stop until he was back in his own quarters, and he stood aimlessly in the center of the common room for a moment. Then, with a shrug that did nothing to express his frustration, he went to make tea.

He was sitting at his table, reading, the warm tea beside him and nearly finished steeping, when someone rang at his door. With a gesture, he opened it, not even caring who it might be.

"Is there some for me?" Tahl asked, pausing by his chair. He looked up and smiled.

"Of course," he said. "There is always some for you." He got up and went to fix her a cup.

"What did they say?" she asked, sitting down in the chair across from his.

"About what?"

"About Obi-Wan."

"That I should wait three days," he said, and turned back around. "I would have protested, but Yoda might have made it longer. And..." he started, and hesitated. "I... feel like I need to wait," he continued slowly, and reflexively released his frustration with the whole situation into the Force. He didn't know if he were crazy or not, but his frustration was as much with the Force as with the Council and himself. Especially since Mace and Yoda seemed to be conspiring to keep him from a full time search for Obi-Wan.

Tahl said nothing, and he turned around to finish her tea. When he sat back down, she smiled as she took the cup he gave her. "I'm glad," she said plainly. "You are far too tired."

He smiled wearily at her. "I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep," he said.

"Anything I can do to help?" she asked.

"Sit and talk with me," he said, and reached across the table to squeeze her free hand.

She smiled and squeezed back. "Of course. What would you talk of?"

"Anything," he said with a sigh, and pulled his hand away to pick up his mug.

She paused a moment. "Was he at Bel-Meridah?"

Qui-Gon took a deep breath, wishing now that he hadn't said anything. He didn't wish to talk about... "Yes. I am certain."

"Did they say he was there?"

"Close enough. I found someone who was a friend, I think, considering how hesitant he was to say anything about Obi-Wan."

Tahl set her mug down, reached across the table, and took his hand in hers. "Listen to me," she said firmly. "You are driving yourself into the ground. There is so much frustration and anger in you that you're driving your own peace away. Let it go."

"I've tried." He sagged wearily back in his chair. "I can't understand this. It's as if the Force itself has turned against me."

Her hand squeezed his. "Have you asked it why?"

He sighed. "I have not had the peace for proper meditation for months."

Tahl smiled gently. "Come, then. Maybe I can help you find your peace." She tugged gently at his hand, and he followed her to kneel in the center of his common room.

She kept his hand even as she closed her eyes, and he closed his as well, blocking out the strange, empty echoing of his quarters, focusing on the warmth of her hand in his. Slowly his breathing evened out and he felt her mind reach out to his. He accepted that touch as he had accepted her hand, and the peace that seemed to permeate her being - the peace that had fled due to his frustration since he realized he was being diverted from his search by the Council - filled him and eased him. When they reemerged from their shared meditation, he was surprised to find that the frustration had fled, and tears tracked his cheeks.

Tahl leaned close and hugged him. "I'm afraid your tea is cold," she said, "but I think you can sleep now."

"Yes," he said, stood and helped her up. "Thank you."

She squeezed his hand. "You are welcome, my friend. Sleep now. It will look clearer in the morning."

He was glad she didn't say it would look better.

He stood before the Council again two days later, listening as they outlined his next mission. It was not, as he had assumed, a simple diplomatic one; this was something more urgent.

"Ambassador Mahália of the Kapunen system has requested our help," Mace said with his usual aplomb. "He has asked for assistance from the Republic, and specifically the Jedi. He has been working hard the last few years to ban slavers from his system. He is beginning to be effective, and they have threatened him and his family. Right now, he has spread his family throughout the system in an attempt to hide them from the slavers he is trying to get rid of. He and his wife are safe, but he wishes for the rest of his family to be safe as well."

"Meet with him you must," Yoda said evenly. "Tell you he will, where his children are, and bring them here you must."

"Am I to work alone?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Better it will be," Yoda said.

"One Jedi will not catch the attention of the slavers," Ki-Adi-Mundi said. "Two might, and three most certainly would."

Qui-Gon nodded. "I accept this mission." He'd slept, thanks to Tahl's help. His shields were tight. At least, he hoped they were tight enough that the gathered Council would not sense his rebellion at this mission. He did not want it. He wanted to go and find his Padawan. And yet the Force nudged him to go.

"Ambassador Mahália is here on Coruscant, in a safe house that supplied by Chancellor Valorum. As soon as you have met with him and he has told you where his children are, you should go," Mace said.

"How many children does he have?"

"Five," Yoda said. "It should not take you long."

"May the Force be with you," Mace said. Qui-Gon bowed and swept from the room.

He packed lightly and headed for the safe house. Ambassador Mahália, a small compact man that reminded him somewhat of Mace, looked worried, scared even, but told him precisely where each of his children were. "We have lost contact," he said. "Be careful. Each of my children has a body guard, someone I trust, but they may shoot first and ask questions later."

Qui-Gon bowed. "I will be careful," he said.

He tried to release the feelings of injustice he felt at this mission. He was to retrieve a man's children, but was not given the chance to look for his own Padawan full time. He knew there was a reason he was not allowed to search, but what that might be, he didn't know. He knew there was a reason because of the looks that Yoda and Mace exchanged every time he went before them to ask for time to search. It was beyond frustrating; he was beginning to get angry.

Taking a deep breath, he released those feelings into the Force, and turned his attention to the task at hand. These were children, untrained and probably frightened. Obi-Wan could take care of himself for a little while longer. He winced at the thought.

It only took two stops for him to prove Ki-Adi-Mundi wrong. One Jedi did catch the attention of the slavers; they must have been watching for the kind of traveling he was doing. The children had been hidden on different habitable planets and moons of the system. Kapunen had a lot of them.

It became something of a game, albeit a deadly one. He set up four rendezvous points on the edge of the system with small, fast, well-armed ships captained by people he trusted, and Qui-Gon's transport became a shuttle of sorts, delivering each child to the ship to be taken to Coruscant at high speed. After the second rescue, the slavers caught on, following him and guessing where he was going on the way toward a planet or moon, and then trying to capture him on the way off, deterred from catching him during the transfer thanks to the weapons on the ships he was meeting. It was taking too long, but in spite of it all, he'd managed to get the four oldest within a relatively short amount of time.

"What will you do now?" the oldest boy asked, a young man about the same age as Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon's fourth pickup and last transfer. He looked very much like his father and he seemed to be pretty level headed, calm in spite of the frantic flight. He sat in the co-pilot's seat, gripping the edge of the consol with both hands as Qui-Gon fought to get past the slavers and to the ship he was supposed to meet. His bodyguard sat against the wall behind them, gripping the handholds on either side of him. He had refused to let his charge out of his sight.

"I will go and get your youngest sister," Qui-Gon said quietly, dodging another shot meant to cripple his ship. The Force nudged him and he dropped the ship down a bit. The next shot passed over them, skidding across the shields.

"Did my father tell you to bring Regina's body guard with her?" he asked.

Qui-Gon nodded. "Yes. And I intend to, if I can."

The boy tilted his head. "If you can?"

"If I can. I may not be able to do anything at all other than get your sister off that planet." Their conversation cut off as he slid in next to the ship he was to meet, connecting to it with a skill he'd learned to perfect the last few hours. It's guns kept the slavers off, disabling one of their ships even as Qui-Gon disconnected. It just got more urgent, the feeling in the Force, once he'd transferred the boy and his guard. Turning the ship, he raced for the last hideout, hoping that this urgent feeling didn't mean that he was too late.


	13. I was Trying to be Someone

Ch 13: "I was Trying to be Someone" - Backstreet Boys, _Shape of My Heart_

The cabin the Ambassador had set up for them was just big enough for two people. The main room, no bigger than the common room in his quarters in the Temple, held a table under the large picture window next to the door, with enough chairs for four people. The door opened into the kitchenette on one side of the room against the wall. On the wall across from the kitchen was a large fireplace, with a couch in front of it. Next to it, stairs led to a loft, open except for curtains used to block the light from the window. Beneath the loft were two doors; one led to the 'fresher, the other to a large bedroom. The whole building was done in dark wood, looking rustic, and reminded Obi-Wan of the weeks spent in solitude with Qui-Gon after his third repudiation and subsequent collapse. He pushed the thought from his mind.

The bedroom was furnished with a double bed of two mattresses and thick coverlets. A door connected this room to the same 'fresher, and another door, at the back of the room, led to a small porch outside. He checked it; it was locked. Obi-Wan smiled at Regina's awed stare as he dropped her bag at the foot of the bed and indicated the dresser beneath the stairs. "You can put your clothes there."

Upstairs was simple and plainly furnished. There was a window on the back wall, and the sleep couch stood under it. A smaller dresser leaned against the wall opposite the stairs. Large, thick curtains hung open across the loft edge, and from there, Obi-Wan had sight of the main room. He sighed, and turned back to the dresser, filling it with his clothes.

It was strange at first, being away from everyone, odd to be wearing normal clothes that didn't mark him as different in some way. It wasn't just that, he realized. Regina seemed to be avoiding him, walking on the other side of the road when they went into the small village to replenish their supplies. She hadn't exactly hidden from him, but it had taken him longer to find her than it should have before dinner once, and it had scared him.

"What's wrong?" he asked her gently one night. They'd been in hiding for a week now, and this distance was disturbing. The week had started well, but had then degenerated. She glared at him and didn't answer. "Regina, please. The villagers think I'm trying to do something to you."

"You are!" she burst out. "You're trying to take the place of my brother!"

Obi-Wan paused, confused for a moment. "Is that what you think? How you feel?"

"Yes!" She sounded close to tears.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean for you to feel that way, and I know your father didn't mean for you to feel that way. I know this is hard on you," he went on. "I'm a little nervous about this whole thing, too. But I will keep you safe, I promise. Maybe not as good as your brother," he teased lightly, "but I will."

She smiled slightly and seemed to relax. "Do you think we'll hear from father soon?"

He smiled as well, understanding her concern. "Yes. He's scheduled to contact us tomorrow."

So life continued, evenly paced for the most part, with the occasional blowup, typical of an eight year old girl. They rose when they woke up, ate, and spent most of the morning with Regina's school work. She didn't like working on it, but he persisted, and it gave them both something to do besides worry about her parents and her siblings. The afternoons they didn't expect communications from her family, they went out and explored, some of it more of her school work, often to make sure she knew how to get away from the cabin and how to get to a hiding place without being seen or tracked.

But slowly, the communications from her father began to shorten, to come late or at unexpected times, and Obi-Wan began to get really worried. Although the children had been removed from the house, the slavers had been repelled and the Ambassador was still at home. Or had been. Obi-Wan didn't know what the break in communications meant. He had at least four ways out of the cabin for Regina, places for her to hide, but this lack of communication made him distinctly nervous.

Regina picked up on his unease and began jumping at shadows. As soon as he saw that, Obi-Wan calmed himself down. 'This is why you are apprenticed,' he thought to himself. 'To keep from getting out of control.' He took a deep breath, centered himself, and took the girl's hand. She flinched. "What's wrong?" he asked gently.

"Are we sure it's safe here?" she asked.

Obi-Wan regarded her solemnly. "Yes. Because I don't think your father would find a place for you that wasn't safe."

She relaxed marginally. "So you think they won't find us?"

He paused. "I think that if they do, we'll be able to get out without them knowing where we went," he said.

"You don't think they'll get us?"

"No," he said firmly. "I don't." I can't, he thought, and took another deep breath.

She regarded him silently for a long time. "Do you think they'll call tonight?" she asked.

He glanced at the com link on the table. They'd been in hiding for a couple of months, and hadn't heard anything from anyone in nearly two weeks. "I don't know," he said. As a child he'd never been lied to, even if the truth had been hard for him to hear. Qui-Gon had never lied to him, either. He'd been raised to speak the truth, and he couldn't stop it. And he found he didn't want to. He was not ready to dishonor his Master's memory. "I hope so." He took a deep breath and tried to think of something to distract her with. "What say you we see if I can beat you at Bacqueri?"

She went to bed a while later, bouncing in self satisfaction. Of course, the fact that she had once again defeated him at a childhood game he was just barely beginning to understand the rules of didn't hurt her feelings a bit. He went upstairs to the loft, but lay awake on his sleep couch for a long time. There were small disturbances in the Force, warnings that something was about to happen, and he strengthened his shields. It seemed to be the best thing to do.

He'd barely dozed off when he heard the front door open. Grabbing his staff, he rolled off his sleep couch and padded on bare feet to the edge of the loft, nervous that they had found him - and had managed to sneak up on him. A tall man stood in the shadows in front of the door, out of sight of the large front window, holding still as if listening. Mindful of the girl he was to protect and carefully gathering the Force about him, Obi-Wan swung down to land before her door, the staff telescoping out to its full length.

Almost immediately, the intruder was illuminated by a green lightsaber, and Obi-Wan's heart leapt into his throat as he recognized the face. Had it been so long that he'd forgotten he was being hunted by two different kinds of hunters? This what the Force had been trying to tell him. "Master J-Jedi," he stuttered, trying to keep the Jedi from knowing he'd been recognized, and Obi-Wan straightened as the staff collapsed again. "I was not informed that you would be arriving."

It took all of his will not to strengthen the block on his training bond. His nearly shoulder-length hair, unbound for sleep, hung half over his face, and the Padawan braid that would give him away was tucked into his shirt, in case of a nocturnal interruption. He hoped it was enough. He quickly adopted the stance of a local boy he'd been studying on their trips into town; if nothing else, it would make him look less like a Jedi.

"You did not expect me?" Qui-Gon Jinn's familiar accent hit him with almost a physical blow, and he had to pause to pull his thoughts back together.

"No. We have heard nothing for some time now." He'd been working on sounding like a local, and hoped he'd succeeded at least a little bit. Enough at least that his Master wouldn't know him.

The Jedi's head tilted as if listening for something, dark eyes fixed on Obi-Wan's. Then he shook his head and went on. "Regina is the only one not in our custody; the others are either on Coruscant or on their way. We'll have to hurry; I don't know how close the slavers are." The stress in his voice was something Obi-Wan knew well. The slavers were right behind him.

"Where's your ship?"

"In the field behind the house, against the trees."

Obi-Wan turned. He knew the place. "Wait here," he tossed over his shoulder as he opened the door and moved into the dark room where Regina slept. He gently woke her. "A Jedi is here to take you to safety," he told her.

"Where to?" she asked sleepily. He handed her a robe and she shrugged into it, and then pushed her feet into her shoes.

"Probably Coruscant. I don't know, I didn't ask him."

"Are you coming?"

"No. I will stay and guard your back. If they come in the front door, I can make them think you are still here."

"The Ambassador wishes you to join him as well," Qui-Gon said from the doorway.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "That won't be possible." He hadn't clashed wills with his Master since the beginning of his apprenticeship, at least not like this. "You can protect her better than I, and if they did follow you, I can give you some time to escape."

The Jedi hesitated, glancing behind him through the large window on the front of the cabin. Obi-Wan knew what that meant, too. The slavers were much closer than he'd originally thought.

"Please come with me," Regina said quietly.

"I can't." He didn't dare tell her why, how he was afraid that if Qui-Gon saw him in the light, he'd recognize his Padawan. He couldn't let that happen yet, not while he could still do some good. "Bug him for stories. I bet he has a few." He hugged her gently. "Now go, and quietly."

"I can't..."

A light flashed through the window, and Qui-Gon went silent, stiffening. "There's a back door," Obi-Wan told him in a whisper. "Hurry."

He followed them, locking the back door behind them, then ran to the main room, closed and locked the bedroom door, and set his back against it. They were coming for her, probably furious, and he had to delay them. He grit his teeth and waited.

He didn't have long.

The staff was made of a light alloy that deflected laser blasts nearly as well as his lightsaber had. He was glad the grip was insulated or his hands would have burned before he was in the fight long. He could hear their shouts of anger and frustration as he used their own fire to block their way in, but eventually they did get through the door and the window. He fought almost coldly, blocking laser blasts and punches with equal grace, determined to give Qui-Gon as long as he could to get out. But the numbers of his opponents kept growing, and he was getting desperate. Hoping his Master was far enough away, he began using the Force actively, pushing the slavers away from him when there were too many. Some of them began coming from the loft, and he was getting tired. But he had to make them think Regina was behind that door he was guarding.

Then there was a shout in the room behind him and he knew he was out of time. Before he could even think of getting away, the door burst open, shoving him into the men that encircled him. He lost the staff in the following scuffle. Before long, they had him pinned down on his knees, arms twisted behind him.

"Where is the girl?" one asked.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. From body guard to slave in three months. Had to be a record. He started to answer, then changed his mind. Give them time, he thought, and glared up at the man before him.

"We can make you talk," the man said, and smiled. "Open that staff again. And get some rope."


	14. My Soul to Have this Silence Broken

Ch 14: "I'd Sell My Soul to Have this Silence Broken" - N Sync, _I Thought She Knew_

Qui-Gon paced the common room of his quarters, his mind in an uproar. The short meeting with Regina's body guard disturbed him, and he wasn't sure why. The feeling would not go away, and he finally left his quarters. There was too much pain in the rooms, Obi-Wan's presence held there by the lightsaber on his bedside table. It was almost completely assembled, just waiting for it's wielder to return and replace the crystal.

He walked through the gardens but found no peace there, ignoring the looks from the other Jedi as he passed them. He knew he was disturbing them, so he made his way to the map room. Even in the dark and silence there he could not meditate, so he sat quietly, eyes closed, just breathing, hoping that he would be able to calm himself enough to meditate. The peace still would not come.

"Complaints I am getting, from many Jedi," Yoda said from the doorway behind him. "Troubled you are."

"Yes, Master," Qui-Gon said without turning to face the small being.

"No luck in your search?"

He took a deep breath, then let it out. "No. And I do not understand." He stared sightlessly at the stars, releasing the frustration into the Force - or at least as much as would go. He never seemed to be free of it. "The Ambassador's family is safe," he said finally. "I would search again."

Yoda was silent as he moved forward to stand next to Qui-Gon. After a long time, the diminutive Master sighed. "Spare you we can, for a while only. Conduct your search you should."

Relief filled him, and he was able to at least banish the frustration to a dark corner of his mind. "Thank you. I will go prepare."

"Be mindful you should, Qui-Gon," Yoda responded before he could move. "Worry for another you have. Neglect him not."

Qui-Gon stood, bowed, and left the room.

He knew exactly what Yoda had meant. He didn't know if Regina's body guard were still alive or even if he were at the cabin, but he would find out. Once he were assured of... something, he would again begin to search.

Now that he was in action, the general restlessness resolved into an urgency to find out what he could about the boy he'd met so briefly. He arrived on the planet about a day and a half after he'd left. The cabin looked much worse on his approach to the front, although there didn't seem to be any of the slavers hanging about. The door had been destroyed and hung on one hinge, swinging in the slightest breeze. The big picture window was shattered, sharp shards around the edge like the teeth of some strange animal. He stepped in, pushing past the door, wary when it squeaked in protest. No one appeared from a hidden corner. The furniture was in pieces, blaster burns all around the room, but the door to Regina's room was intact and closed. He glanced up to the balcony, from where her bodyguard leaped down to face him.

His breath caught. The boy hung by his wrists, tied on either end of his staff. The staff was bound to the balcony railing. The boy's breathing was labored. His head fell forward, hair concealing what Qui-Gon guessed was a very bruised face, if his torso were any indication, at least from what he could see through the ripped tunic. His lightsaber ignited almost without thought and he used the Force to lift him and ease the pressure on his chest. He jumped up to the balcony and cut the ropes there, and then used the Force and his own strength to bring him over the railing and onto the floor. It was quick work to release him from the staff, and almost immediately he stirred weakly.

"The staff," he mumbled. "Mine."

Lightsaber and staff - collapsed - on his own belt, Qui-Gon picked up the wounded boy and carried him down the stairs and gently to his ship. "Coming back," the boy whispered. "Two days."

That didn't give him much time. He strapped the boy in as carefully as he could, turning a deaf ear to his moans, and fired up the engines. Their ship had barely cleared the trees when another familiar ship broke through the clouds and descended on them, firing salvo after salvo. "Hold on," Qui-Gon muttered to his injured companion, and raised the transport with a jerk, dodging right to miss the first blast. It shot past them and he dove down, into a small ravine covered with trees. Reaching out with the Force, he judged where the other ship would be, slowed, and burst out of the cover behind them, engines straining as he raced for the stars beyond the fluffy white clouds. The ship rocked lightly and he swerved right, leveled out, and aimed up again. The slaver ship was below, coming up on him fast, but they didn't catch up before he entered the clouds. He ducked sideways, and the aftershock of the passing slaver ship knocked him to the side a little further. He waited, then ducked back under the clouds, flying as fast as the ship would go to where he needed to be to hit hyperspace just right for a short jump to Coruscant.

The slavers spotted him when he broke through the tops of the clouds, but their shots went wild as he dodged and wove, and finally made it past them and far enough from the planet to make the jump into hyperspace. With a sigh, he leaned back, releasing the controls with a bit of an effort. The Force swirled around him, calm and without warning. He had escaped.

When he turned to the boy, he was relieved to find he was unconscious but alive. Carefully, Qui-Gon unstrapped the boy and carried him to the sleeping quarters. Laying him on the sleep couch, he grabbed the Med-Kit from the wall compartment and began to clean the boy's wounds, taking care of the small cuts on his face and torso. His face was swollen so badly that if he hadn't know the boy was human, he wouldn't have known it. There was something familiar about him, but Qui-Gon could only guess that it came from their short interaction when he'd come for Regina. Once most of the wounds were taken care of, he strapped the boy in again and returned to the cockpit. He started to put a call in to the Coruscant Med-Center nearest the Temple, but something stopped him, a feeling. Taking his hand from the com link, he sank into a light meditation. The Temple? he thought after a moment. Why take this boy to the Temple? But he was used to going by instinct - or the Force - and reached to activate the com. He called into the Temple and requested Healers meet him; from what he could tell, the boy had some broken ribs and his shoulders were both out of joint. At least he was breathing better.

When Theela asked him why he was bringing a stranger there, he sighed. "I don't know. It's the will of the Force. Just make sure there's a bacta tank waiting for him. He's pretty beat up."

"There is one available, Master Jinn, and there will be Healers to meet your ship. Are you coming in with him?"

"No. I have other things to attend to."

"Very well, Master Jinn. Theela out."

Theela was waiting on the landing pad with a grav-sled and another Healer, and she carefully took the boy from Qui-Gon, laying him gently down. "Are sure you won't come in?" she asked, turning back to Qui-Gon.

He shook his head, amused that she was checking him for injuries. "Ask the Ambassador's youngest daughter for his name," he told her quietly, and boarded his ship. At the top of the ramp he paused, watching the grav sled disappear into the Temple. Something about that boy... He shook his head and settled back into the cockpit. As soon as the platform was clear, he took off to find his missing Padawan.


	15. So Lonely Inside

Ch 15: "So Lonely Inside" - Michelle Branch, _All You Wanted_

Obi-Wan woke, disoriented. The smells were familiar, but distant in his memory, and he couldn't place them. He remembered what had happened, the beatings, hearing his ribs crack, being hoisted up, having to use his strength and the Force just to keep breathing. "If you're still alive in two days, you'll wish you weren't," an ominous voice had said with a sneer. "And you'll tell us where the girl is." Then there was a strange, vague dream of being let down by someone in silence, catching sight of a green lightsaber below his feet, feeling the Force around him. Slowly, so slowly, he made his eyes open, trying to figure out where he was, wincing at the pain he could still feel. He definitely wasn't on the slaver's ship. No chains.

The first thing he saw when his eyes finally opened was Yoda. The Jedi Master sat in his float chair next to the medical couch, watching him with serious eyes.

"Good to see that awake you are," Yoda said, and Obi-Wan's heart lurched. Then he groaned softly. How had he wound up here? Oh, wait... Green lightsaber. Not a dream, a memory. Did Qui-Gon know he was here, too?

"Hello, Master Yoda," he managed finally.

"Hello, Obi-Wan," the diminutive being said gently. "Worried your Master is. Wrong it is of you to make him so."

"Yes, Master." What else was there to say? He shouldn't be worried, he should be relieved... He forced his thoughts from his old life and back to the new one. "Is Regina safe?"

"Here she is, and her family." Yoda's ears dipped and his eyes narrowed. "How feel you?"

"Very sore," Obi-Wan answered. His shoulders ached, and his chest hurt. At least the stabbing pains were gone.

"Save the girl's life you did," Yoda said. "Well done _that_ was. Want to see you, she will. Now, sleep you must."

Before he could ask what Yoda meant, the Council member's light compulsion slipped him quietly into a Healing trance.

The next time he woke, he was alone. The pain in his shoulders had ebbed, and he felt well enough to reach to his bedside table to find his staff. Its presence, in the absence of his probably destroyed lightsaber, was comforting.

"Worried your Master is." Yoda's words echoed in his head. But surely Qui-Gon had told them that his Padawan had tried to kill him? He turned his attention inward, to the walled-off training bond. Carefully, cautiously, he began to remove the wall, pulling it down little by little. He didn't want Qui-Gon distracted if he was in the middle of an important mission, but he would give his Master the chance to formally repudiate him. It was only right. At the thought, he shuddered and huddled up, not wishing to go through that again. After a moment, he straightened himself out, lying flat on the medical couch. It would not be as bad, he tried to convince himself. At least this time it was because of some action he took and not because his Master wanted to destroy him. And the guilt would not be as crushing, since the bombs were no longer in his head.

He turned his attention to the rest of his body to distract himself. It was recovering. In fact, he felt pretty good. He knew better than to get up, however. Facing the wrath of the Healers - Theela, in particular - had been bad the first time. He didn't want to know what would happen to a second-time recalcitrant patient.

Two days later, two days of much needed sleep and rest, the summons came. He was allowed to clean up and they gave him an outfit of the Ambassador's livery. He felt much better as he dressed with the healer's help and bound his hair up, tucking his braid out of sight. For all he knew, they knew he still had it, but he was not going to let them see it if he could help it. Last of all, he hung the staff on his belt. Not quite the same as a lightsaber, to be sure, but the weight was as comforting as it had been when he'd first gotten it.

He accepted the guide to the Council chambers. The dark blue livery was going to set him apart, but the other Jedi might not notice if he were guided; a stranger obviously not of the Temple going somewhere on his own was likely to cause talk. He wanted to be invisible. The girl was nervous but he could not ease her. He was nervous himself. Before long, she stopped and gestured that he continue. As he approached, the outer doors opened, revealing the guardian.

"You have been summoned?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, and was somewhat surprised to hear that his voice was steady. "Bennet Kenobi." He started when he realized he hadn't given her his real name. "I- I mean, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

She bestowed on him a gentle smile. "Follow me, please."

He did, stepping through the inner doors when they opened and she gestured him through. He walked to the center of the chamber, glad of the comforting weight of his blue cloak, and bowed to Mace and Yoda. "I have been summoned," he said.

"Summoned you have been, to answer for all that you have done," Yoda told him. "Many questions we have."

"I will answer as best I can," he said.

Questions came from every part of the room, covering his stay in the Monastery and what he'd done before and after. He turned to face each of the questioners, and as the sun moved slowly from window to window he began to grow weary, and pulled on the Force to keep himself steady.

"Why did you leave?" Mace asked, and Obi-Wan turned wearily to face him.

"I could not bear to... I couldn't stay," he said, wondering if they knew how exhausted he was, and wondering faintly if they even cared. Then he realized that he'd had absolutely no reason to leave; it had been an unthinking panic that had sent him running from the training room and the Temple.

"Why?"

Obi-Wan blinked, caught off guard. "I'm sorry. I do not understand the question."

"Why could you not stay?"

He paused, startled. "I... I don't know." His eyes dropped to the floor, and he waited for the next question.

To his surprise, it wasn't a question. "Unbind your hair," Mace said.

Obi-Wan looked up, stupid with fatigue. "Sorry?" he asked.

"Unbind your hair," came the repeated order.

Wearily, not understanding, he reached up to release his hair. His hands were batted out of the way. Someone else pulled the tie from his hair and ran thick fingers through it to straighten it. To his dismay, that dislodged his carefully hidden braid and it fell down his back, reaching halfway to his waist. If that wasn't bad enough, the braid was moved to fall down his chest, and a familiar weight rested on his shoulder.

"Ah," Yoda said. "Welcome back, Master Qui-Gon."

Obi-Wan took an unsteady step away from the hand on his shoulder, turning to face his Master in surprise.

"It is good to see you again, Padawan," Qui-Gon said gently.

Obi-Wan could say nothing. His mind spun, sluggish, dazed, and to his surprise and relief, everything started to dim. A firm arm across his back stopped his descent to the floor, but not the descent into darkness.


	16. Looking Back on the Things I've Done

Ch 16: "Looking Back on the Things I've Done" - Backstreet Boys, _Shape of My Heart_

Qui-Gon shifted to brace his Padawan better, holding the boy to him to keep him from falling to the floor. "If you'll excuse me," he said with a glance at Yoda. The head of the Council nodded, and Qui-Gon lifted Obi-Wan and carried him from the room.

They must have made quite a sight, but Qui-Gon did not see the stares in the halls. His attention was completely on the unconscious boy in his arms. He'd grown, if nothing else could be said of him. He had been oddly pleased to see Obi-Wan's braid, even without the markers of accomplishment, when he'd pulled his hair loose. Black thread tied off the top of the braid, and he added that to the list of questions he intended to ask his Padawan as soon as he was feeling better.

In his quarters, Qui-Gon went right to Obi-Wan's room. He carefully laid his Padawan on the sleep couch, and removed his boots and belt. The staff he set next to the boy's lightsaber, within easy reach. He turned to go, but paused in the doorway and looked back.

For all his reluctance to take another Padawan after the disaster with Xanatos, he was glad he had. Even the pain of the last few months had been worth it. He'd learned so much while searching for Obi-Wan; a lot about himself, and a lot about the Force. He hoped - hoped desperately, in fact - that the presence of the Padawan braid meant he'd come back, but he felt that if Obi-Wan left the order, it would not be quite as devastating to him personally. From what he'd gathered, the boy had done nothing that did not befit a Jedi while he was gone.

He stepped back and let the door close. It was comforting, to actually feel Obi-Wan in the next room. Ben, Regina had called him. Now he knew the name he'd used while staying at the Monastery of Bel-Meridah.

It had been amazing. Two days ago, he'd suddenly realized the block on the bond had vanished. He'd dropped abruptly into real space and sped back in the direction of the connection. He'd honed his sense of the training bond, focused it so that anything that came through would lead him in the right direction. He'd focused so much on the little bit of sensation that had come through that blocked bond that having it open like that had given him an headache, but it was a blessing. He'd been surprised to find Obi-Wan was on Coruscant, and the surprise had only increased when it became clear he was in the Temple. Finding the boy in the Council chambers was not so unexpected, after his prolonged absence. He had heard no questions, but Obi-Wan had not even turned when the doors had opened, and he'd felt the boy's exhaustion. The livery had explained everything; he was the boy he'd rescued from the cabin and from the slavers. Mace had understood, and a smile crossed Qui-Gon's face at his friend's subterfuge.

A knock on his door distracted him from his thoughts, and with a gesture, he opened it. Theela bowed, and even at the lowest point of her bow, her head was just below his shoulder. "Forgive the intrusion, Master Jinn. Mace Windu said that you brought Obi-Wan back here, and that he had collapsed."

"Yes," Qui-Gon said. "I'm sorry I didn't bring him back to you..."

She held up a hand to stop him. "That is not the worry, Master Jinn," she said. "After your separation, it is better that he is here. I just need to see him."

"He's in here." He led the way back to the side room, watching as she lay her hand on Obi-Wan's forehead. His Padawan's whole head nearly vanished under her hand.

"He will be fine; he's still recovering from the beating he took and the Council wore him out. He should rest as long as you can keep him here," she said as she straightened again.

Qui-Gon nodded. "I'll do my best."

"That's all we can ask." She favored him with a rare smile. "I'll be back in a couple of days if you haven't brought him to us by then."

He walked her to the door. "I'll bring him if he's up."

When she'd left, ducking to get through the doorways, he returned to Obi-Wan's door, amused at himself that he couldn't stay away. His brow furrowed as the boy jerked, mumbling something too low to hear. He stepped closer; Obi-Wan's head turned away. "No," he moaned low, and there was despair in his voice. "Master! No!" This was a shout, and it woke him. After a startled moment, he sat up and ran a trembling hand through his hair.

"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked softly.

His Padawan moved in a flurry of brown blankets and dark blue clothing, ending up at Qui-Gon's feet, wavering on his knees. His hair fell forward, masking his face more than his bowed head. "Forgive me, Master."

"Stand up, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, flustered, and reached down to grip the boy's arm in case he needed help standing up. He didn't move. "Get up, Padawan. There is nothing to forgive."

It surprised the teenager and he looked up, face pale in the dim light. "Master..." His voice trembled.

Qui-Gon knelt next to him, lifting Obi-Wan's chin so he could see the boy's eyes. "There is nothing to forgive," he repeated. It was odd to see his Padawan's familiar face framed by long, red-gold hair.

"I tried to kill you." It was a whisper; Obi-Wan's blue eyes vanished behind his lids.

"Did you?"

Obi-Wan stared at him. "Master?"

"Was it really you, Obi-Wan?"

"I... I don't know," the boy stuttered. His eyes were awash with unshed tears. "I haven't... I didn't dare meditate on it." Color flooded his face in shame. "I was... am... afraid."

"Afraid of what?" He had to keep his voice calm, not let his Padawan know how much that admission disturbed him. He'd believed the boy had conquered his fear.

"I thought... I didn't know if... if they'd saved you." His voice sank in shame. "I didn't want to know if you were dead."

"I'm not dead. The Healers are capable." He smiled slightly, reminded of Theela's visit. "You are still unwell. Get back into bed, and when you are feeling better, you must meditate on that day. Look at it through the eyes of a Jedi. Give yourself distance."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said, and Qui-Gon stood to help him up. "But Master..." He hesitated, standing slowly, ungracefully, using his Master's assistance. "There is much to forgive."

Qui-Gon paused only an instant. "Then it is forgiven."

Obi-Wan stared at him, eyes wide, and Qui-Gon thought he saw a tear in his Padawan's eye. Abruptly, Obi-Wan sank down on the sleep couch, straightening his blankets in a convulsive movement, and then lay down. "Sleep well, Padawan."

"Thank you, Master."

Qui-Gon had to leave this time. Obi-Wan wanted peace; he didn't like to show emotion to others if he could help it. But just outside his Padawan's door, Qui-Gon stopped, hands clenched. It was a good question. Who had tried to kill him? And why? And why had they used Obi-Wan?

When he sensed Obi-Wan had fallen asleep again, he returned to the doorway. "Now I could find you in pitch black," he said softly with a smile. "And with way trouble finds you, I'll probably need it." He chuckled and backed out of the way, letting the door shut.


	17. Darkness Comes, I Start to See a Picture

Ch 17: "As the Darkness Comes, I Start to See a Picture" - Ace of Base, _Edge of Heaven_

Obi-Wan knelt next to his sleep couch, searching for the answer to his own question. He was hesitant, but squared his shoulders, refusing to back down. He hadn't let fear conquer him the last time, three years ago, and it wouldn't now. Slowly, he turned his mind to the day he'd left, sinking deeper into a trance. He watched the day unfold, reviewing everything that had happened.

He discovered that the darkness he had felt that day had been present earlier than he had thought. With an effort, he shrugged off the shame that he hadn't noticed it as soon as it had slipped into the training room. His Master hadn't noticed it, either, because it had slipped in so subtly, and they'd thought themselves safe. Suddenly, he stopped, holding the current scene in his mind - he was about to be knocked back - and his brow furrowed. The darkness felt... familiar, but he couldn't place it. Slowly, he let his mind go forward, trying to concentrate on why he knew it. He noted when he finally did feel the darkness, but by then it was nearly too late. It was as if two hands placed themselves over his and directed his next two blows. He struck, and Qui-Gon blocked, but then he used the base of his lightsaber as a focus for the Force and shoved his Master just enough off balance for him to strike, a sweeping blow that scored Qui-Gon's chest before driving into his side. He remembered fighting to not make that strike, being relieved that he hadn't cut his Master in half before the second part of it.

He watched himself jerk back in horror - then he remembered and tumbled out of the trance, a cry sounding in his ears that he belatedly realized was his own voice. His door slid open as he became aware of a few more things. He'd jerked so violently out of the trance that he lay on his side on the floor, and his hands were trembling. Before he could move, Qui-Gon was beside him, a hand on his shoulder and a worried look in his eye. "Are you okay, Padawan?"

Obi-Wan could not answer. He stared sightlessly into his Master's chest, checking and double checking the memory. But there was no mistake.

"Obi-Wan?"

"No," he whispered, eyes widening in horror. "No. How..." He shook his head. "What happened to M..." It was almost a compulsion. Still, after three years and a new Master, he was not free of that compulsion. "To Toman?"

When Qui-Gon did not answer immediately, Obi-Wan looked up at him, searching out his Master's gaze. "He was banished, removed from the Order," Qui-Gon said after a long while. "There is a tracer on him, so they know where he is at all times. Is it important?"

"Yes, Master. At least, I think so." He pushed himself up, meeting Qui-Gon's eyes. "I think it was he who... he was the darkness." He wasn't making sense, and he knew it.

But there was comprehension in his Master's eyes, and the older Jedi nodded. "I will speak with the Council." He got to his feet, then helped Obi-Wan up. "Get dressed, Padawan. They will want you there."

Obi-Wan was dressed, back in his Jedi robes, and reaching for the staff when he realized what lay next to it on the table. His knees buckled, depositing him on his bed. His hand was shaking as he lifted the lightsaber, lifted the crystal, then sat dazed, staring at them. The sapphire winked at him just as it had on that planet two years - almost three year ago now. He didn't understand why it was there, why it wasn't destroyed.

The door slid open, and Qui-Gon paused in the doorway. Obi-Wan looked up. "You didn't destroy it." In spite of his attempts to keep his emotions in control, his voice trembled. He felt hope, something he hadn't dared feel even when his Master had granted the forgiveness he'd craved. Maybe... Maybe there was a chance...

The Master smiled a painful smile. "No. I used my prerogative as your Master to keep it until I understood," he said, and there was a light tremor in his voice as well. "Come, Padawan. The council is waiting. We will speak on this more after this is settled."

Still, Obi-Wan hesitated, unsure, and finally looked up. "Wear the staff until you have replaced the crystal," Qui-Gon said gently. "Come."

Standing unsteadily, Obi-Wan fell into place behind his Master, clipping the staff to his side. The weight was reassuring during the silent walk to the Council Chamber.

He kept his robe tight around him as he followed his Master through the large doors into the circular room. He often felt naked, walking into that room, but it was worse this time. He didn't know if they knew he wasn't carrying his lightsaber, but he felt like they knew it. He stopped the proper distance behind his Master, bowed exactly, and waited.

"Identified your attacker you have?" Yoda asked. Obi-Wan was glad the small Master's eyes were on Qui-Gon."

"Yes, Master," Qui-Gon said. "It was Toman."

The Force swirled with unspoken communication, and Mace fixed Obi-Wan with a piercing gaze. He froze, half afraid of what would happen next. "Are you sure of this, Padawan Kenobi?"

"Y-yes, Master," he stuttered, and flushed.

"Explain what you felt."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "W-when I meditated this morning," he started, "I studied the events of that day. I noticed that the dark feeling was there sooner than we'd realized." He paused. "I did not notice it then until it was too late. It wanted..." He stopped and took a deep, calming breath, letting it out and his frustrations with it. The Council waited patiently. "He wanted to kill my Master. He wanted me to kill him. And I fought him, pulling the blow that would have cut him in two. But I couldn't stop the last blow. Toman surprised me." He kept a firm grip on his thoughts, on his feelings.

"What happened after that?"

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, focusing on keeping his shields tight. "Then he was gone from the Force, and I was free. I deactivated my lightsaber, and called to Bant, she was waiting outside because we were going to meet for lunch. The Healers came, and... I left. There was no evidence that I had not tried to kill my Master, and I did not want to be cast out. I thought..." He paused again, gathering his thoughts. "I thought it would be better if I left, than to be cast out," he admitted, then hesitated. "I think... I think it might have been what he wanted," he said slowly. "I don't know if he planted the idea in my head, but I think he wanted me out of the Temple. And I went... I lost myself too well."

"Yes," Qui-Gon murmured softly, frustration in his voice. Obi-Wan had a hard time not looking at him.

"To what end?" Adi Gallia asked.

"I don't know," Obi-Wan said.

"I may," Qui-Gon said, and Mace nodded, gesturing for him to continue. "His former Master attacked Obi-Wan just before we reported here the day I took Obi-Wan as my Padawan. She said that he would destroy the Jedi order, and attempted to kill him. It was Di'ona who reprogrammed training droids to attack Obi-Wan, nearly killing him two days before that."

"Know this we do," Yoda said impatiently. "Find Toman we must, to ask him why."

"We don't even know where to start," Mace said.

Qui-Gon stiffened. "You told me you had a tracer on him," he said flatly.

"It shows that he is on Pervan," Mace told him. "We will look into it, but we have to consider that he might have gotten it out and left it there."

Qui-Gon stared at the Council Members, and Obi-Wan shifted, uncomfortable. Finally, he took a deep breath. "Masters," he said, and took a moment to be grateful that his voice didn't crack. "He seemed to be able to follow me."

"Follow you?" Ki-Adi-Mundi repeated.

"Yes. I think... I think he was trailing Master Jinn. He had found me just before I left, I think. The Force got me out of the Monastery just in time."

"Do you think he knows you are here?" Mace asked, leaning forward.

"I have not felt the darkness in the Force that I have felt other times," Obi-Wan said carefully. Mace glanced at Yoda, and the two communicated silently.

"No," Qui-Gon said suddenly, and Obi-Wan barely kept from flinching. The emotions that raged in his Master leaked a little down the bond, and none of them were ever things he'd associated with Qui-Gon Jinn.

"There may be no other way," Klo Poon rasped.

Obi-Wan looked between his Master and the Council in some confusion, not sure what was going on. He only knew that his Master didn't like it at all.

"No," Qui-gon repeated, firmer. "I will not allow this."

"It is not your decision, Master Jinn," Mace said calmly. "It is Obi-Wan's."

Obi-Wan's eyes widened. "My decision?" he repeated, feeling incredibly stupid because he didn't know what they were talking about.

Qui-Gon turned to him, a crack in his usually calm demeanor. "They wish to use you as bait."

Obi-Wan stared at him. "To lure Master Toman here?" he asked, stumbling as always over his former Master's title. It frightened him, certainly, but to see his Master so... uncontrolled was even worse. He never would have believed this was possible.

"Yes," Mace said. "Unless he has someone in the Temple..."

"He doesn't need someone in the Temple," Qui-Gon snapped. "He got in on his own just fine."

"Master Qui-Gon," Yoda said firmly in reprimand. "Understand we do, how you feel."

"With all due respect, Master Yoda," Qui-Gon responded, his voice flat, "Unless my shields are leaking again, you cannot _possibly_ know how I feel."


	18. When You Reach the Bottom

Ch 18: "There's Nowhere Left to Fall when You Reach the Bottom" - O-Town, _All or Nothing_

Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan's confusion and consternation echoing down the bond between them, and knew that his Padawan had sensed his own unease at the course the Council was suggesting. Or was about to suggest.

Unease? He was bordering on panic. There was simply no way he was going to let his Padawan out of his sight - and it _would_ require that Obi-Wan be out of his sight - now that he'd found him, now that he knew who was after him. He could almost guess what the Council would suggest. He fought to think of another plan, but he felt leaden, unable to even consider something else.

The silence drew out, but no one answered his challenge. Instead, they changed the subject.

"How did you know it was Toman?" Oppo Rancisis asked, breaking into Qui-Gon's thoughts.

"I was his Padawan for a year," Obi-Wan said. "I... came to know his mental touch very... well." The boy's voice was flat, almost toneless.

"How did he coerce you to stab Master Jinn?" Adi asked.

Obi-Wan swallowed, and Qui-Gon could feel how hard it was for him to do this. He stepped closer to the boy, lending his support as much as he could, but did not stop the questioning. Much as he would have liked to, it was necessary if they were to catch Toman. "It was as if he'd wrapped his hands around mine and directed the blows. He used the Force to do it."

"How can you be sure?" Plo Koon asked.

Obi-Wan paused. "He... I have been controlled from within my mind, and from the outside, by all of my Masters except Master Jinn," he said slowly, in that same flat tone. "I can tell the difference."

The silence that filled the room did nothing to ease Qui-Gon's feelings. He was not adept in the Unified Force, but the inevitability of this plan - using Obi-Wan as bait - was screaming at him. He looked at Master Yoda, and was struck by the empathy he could see on the old Master's face. Maybe the ancient Master did know how he felt.

"Master Qui-Gon," Yoda said gently, and everyone else in the room grew quiet. "Understand I do, that to lose your Padawan you do not wish. Another way can you see?"

Qui-Gon took a deep breath, and his shoulders slumped. "No, Master. I cannot." Obi-Wan was alarmed at his words, but Qui-Gon could do nothing to reassure his Padawan now.

"Return this afternoon," Mace said, and there was a gentleness to his tone. "We will discuss what must be done then. Say nothing of this, Qui-Gon," he said, adding a warning to his voice. "We still do not know if Toman got in or if there is someone here helping him."

Qui-Gon stared at him. "I cannot even speak with Obi-Wan?"

Ki-Adi-Mundi shook his head. "No, Master Jinn. We cannot take the risk that you will be overheard."

He'd thought Obi-Wan was alarmed before; now he was terrified. Qui-Gon bowed sharply to the Council, and then turned to Obi-Wan. "It will be okay," he said gently before leading the way from the room.

They walked back to their quarters in silence, and once inside, Obi-Wan sat stiffly down at the table. Qui-Gon walked past him, to the small kitchenette to one side of the room, and as he did, he touched the boy's shoulder, and then ever so gently tugged on the braid that lay there.

Something in the Padawan gave, and Obi-Wan began to tremble. "Master," he said softly as Qui-Gon moved toward the stove. "What will happen to me now?"

Qui-Gon turned around. "I don't know. Now we wait and see what the Council decides. They did not confine you to quarters, however, Obi-Wan. I believe Regina would like to see you again. She was quite upset that I left you there."

Obi-Wan smiled wryly, and his trembling eased. "I couldn't go with her," he said. "I didn't want you to catch sight of me in better light."

Abandoning his idea of tea, Qui-Gon sat down across from his Padawan. "Why?" he asked.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "Mostly because I wasn't sure of anything. You'd had enough pain in your life, I guess I thought I'd keep you from more - as much as I could. Since most of your pain lately has been my fault anyway. And I had the feeling that if I went with you, we wouldn't have escaped."

"I believe you are right, much as I might hate to admit it," Qui-Gon said heavily. "I did not like the idea of leaving one so young behind. I was surprised when I found you still there."

Obi-Wan nodded. "They were returning soon, I remember that much," he said.

"Yes," Qui-Gon said. And they nearly had you, he added in his thoughts, and stood to shove the thought away. "We are both upset," he said calmly. "Perhaps some meditation will help."

Obi-Wan nodded and stood as well, joining his Master in the center of the room. Kneeling, they sat quietly in meditation until the Force around them no longer swirled in agitation. Qui-Gon opened his eyes first, noting in some satisfaction that the tension in Obi-Wan's shoulder's had eased. Obi-Wan looked at him and smiled hesitantly.

Qui-Gon knew his Padawan did not want to stay there, and so he smiled back. "I know the Ambassador and his family would like to see you again."

"I would be glad to see them as well," Obi-Wan said. They got to their feet and left their quarters, moving down the hallway in silence.

It didn't take them long to reach the safe house. The door opened immediately when he rang. Behind him, Obi-Wan shifted a little, and the serving girl beckoned them in. "I will get my mistress, Master Jedi," she said, and left them standing in the small parlor. They weren't there long before the Ambassador's wife stepped in and smiled brightly at him. "Master Jinn," she said, reaching to take his hand. "It is good to see you again." He took her hand, smiling as well.

"It is good to see you in such good spirits," he said in greeting.

"Let me get my husband. He will wish to see you." Her eyes flicked over his shoulder, then she stopped to take a better look at Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon tried not to smile at the discomfort that leaked down the bond from his Padawan. She excused herself and left the room.

"She was surprised to see you," Qui-Gon said.

Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair. "I should have cut it," he said.

"Not until the Council says."

As soon as he spoke them, Qui-Gon wished the words back. Obi-Wan tensed again, and his eyes dropped to the floor. "Padawan, it will be okay," he said softly, but that was all he had time for as Ambassador Mahália swept into the room.

"Master Jinn! It is good to see you again. Thank you for..." The ambassador stopped short, his eyes on Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon had to smile as his Padawan shifted uncomfortably.

"Ambassador," Obi-Wan said, giving a slight bow.

"Ben! I'm glad to see you. I wondered why Kath insisted on getting Regina." Turning back to Qui-Gon, the Ambassador smiled. "Thank you for retrieving my children," he said. "And for going back for Ben."

"I couldn't leave him there," Qui-Gon said quietly. "He is my Padawan. I simply lost him for a time."

"Your Padawan?" the Ambassador asked, then he grinned widely. "That explains much about him."

Qui-Gon nodded, and noticed out of the corner of his eyes that Obi-Wan's face had flushed again. He barely noticed the small girl that entered the room.

"Ben!" Regina cried, and ran across the room to throw herself at Obi-Wan. He caught her in a hug. "They didn't kill you!"

"No, they did not. They wanted me to tell them where you had gone."

She drew back and looked at him seriously. "And you did not."

"Even if I had, it would have done them no good," he said. "By the time I would have said something, you were already here."

She nodded and straightened her skirt, turning to Qui-Gon with an expression of gratitude. "You went back for him?"

Qui-Gon smiled. "Of course. He is my apprentice, and I could not leave him there."

"Did you know, when you left him?"

Qui-Gon looked at her solemnly. "No. And I imagine that is why it took so long for the Healers to notify you that he was here."

"I'm glad you found him. But this means that you will no longer be my body guard, doesn't it?" she asked, turning to Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon could tell she was trying to be brave, trying not to cry, and he wondered at his Padawan's ability to form such close ties so quickly. Obi-Wan managed a sick-looking smile that immediately disappeared.

"Not at present, no," he said, and Qui-Gon could feel his uncertainty. He sent reassurance down the bond, but it didn't help as much as he'd hoped.

They stayed for a while. Qui-Gon didn't say much, listening as Regina cheerfully told the story of her rescue. When she was finished, Obi-Wan explained his part of it much more reluctantly, which no one in the room had heard. When he was finished, Qui-Gon took a deep breath. "We need to get back," he said, and ignored Obi-Wan's startled look. The boy schooled his expression immediately.

"It was good to see you again," he said politely, standing as Qui-Gon did. The Master was pleased to note that his Padawan's mood had lightened considerably.

That lasted through most of the afternoon, until Yoda summoned them to meet with the Council. Qui-Gon could do little more than send his Padawan calming reassurance through their bond, and he had to be careful. He could not let Obi-Wan know how uneasy this made him. So he came to a stop in the center of the round chamber and bowed precisely, every inch the serene Jedi Master he was supposed to be. Behind him, he could sense Obi-Wan trembling.

"Decided we have," Yoda said without preamble, and there was compassion in his eyes as he gazed on the two Jedi before him. "Cast out, the Padawan will be."


	19. No More Reason to Stay

Ch. 19: "No More Reason to Stay" - Godsmack, _Voodoo_

Obi-Wan's legs no longer held him. He dropped, dazed, to his knees, Yoda's words echoing in his mind, his thought spinning as he tried to come up with a defense. After a moment, he collapsed completely, forehead pressed to the floor in supplication. "Master," he said in a broken voice.

"Hear from you now we will not," Yoda said severely.

Swallowing hard, Obi-Wan pulled himself sharply back under control. Slowly, his mind eased; slowly, he sat up but did not stand, eyes cast down. It all seemed unreal; he could hear his Master - Master Jinn, he corrected himself sharply - arguing heatedly with Masters Windu and Ki-Adi-Mundi, but it sounded very far away, and he couldn't make out any words. It was familiar, really; the only thing missing was the guilt. The despair was just as crushing as it had been when he was repudiated.

Suddenly, everything came back into focus as the darkness reached for him. He looked around, checking faces, scrutinizing the Council members for any indication that they felt it. There was none.

Shaking harder, familiar panic setting in, Obi-Wan began to get to his feet, only to have Master Even Piell give him such a glare that he settled back down. Master Jinn was still arguing with Master Windu, and others had joined in the argument.

The darkness crept closer, and he could feel it reaching for his mind again, reaching to get in, to take him away - from what? The Council had already taken everything that Master Toman might want. Obi-Wan moved sideways, trying to keep out of range of that darkness. How could they not feel it? He glanced around again, shaking so hard his teeth would have been chattering if he hadn't clenched them to keep from screaming out the unfairness of his banishment, but no one noticed. None of them were even looking at him, caught up in the argument at the one end of the room.

The end opposite the doors.

He didn't wait for the darkness to reach for him a third time. Lurching to his feet, he fled, slamming through the doors and the antechamber, running for the stairs. He took them two at a time, ignoring the looks and shouts from the few knights he passed, pulling his arm free without even stopping when one grabbed at him. He wondered if that meant security had been alerted. He'd forgotten how many stairs there were from the Council Chamber, and by the time he found a door out of the Temple he was gasping for breath and had a stitch in his side.

He staggered out and across the bridge to the shelter of the next building over, leaning against the wall.

While he caught his breath, his fingers fumbled to hide the braid he'd plaited this morning after his shower. His breath hitched at the memory. He forced himself to think on escape, not what he'd lost. Going straight for the space port was not an option; they'd think to look for him there. Casting out with the Force, he could feel Jedi leaving the Temple from the door he'd used, and he ran again, not believing they were looking for him yet, but not willing to take the chance. For all he knew, there was a ceremony and everything for casting him from the Order, and public humiliation was not something he wanted. He'd had enough of the private kind. At the next ramp, he took the downward slope, strengthening his shields to hide his Force sensitivity.

He'd gotten two levels into the depths of the city before he slowed again, and paused long enough to get his bearings. Not that he was familiar with this area, but... He started a little, realizing he _was_ familiar with the market he found himself near. He'd been here a couple of times, against both Temple rules and what his Master had said, to find his mother's bracelet after his former Masters had found and sold it. He winced, wishing he could somehow keep from lumping Master Jinn in with the other three.

With a firm shake of his head, he walked into the crowd, making for the other side. The beings here were as varied as any place in the galaxy, but he paid them no mind. The last time he'd been here, he'd been so scared someone would notice him... but they had noticed no more than he did now. There would be a place he could hide a little farther on; he'd found it long ago when he'd been spotted by one of the gangs that lived on the lower levels. At least this time he didn't stand out as a Jedi apprentice, if he kept his cloak tight around him. He shuddered, remembering Master Toman's anger when he'd gotten back to the Temple the next morning, cold, hungry and filthy. He'd wished he'd let the gang get to him instead of facing the punishment he'd had that time. At least they would have just killed him. He still bore the scars from that particular punishment.

Obi-Wan found the small alcove with only small problems, and was glad to see it was empty - the market hadn't moved down this little street yet. Settling in, he realized he wasn't as small as he had been then and groaned. Maybe, with a little judicious use of the Force, he could keep from being seen, at least for the night.

As soon as he'd settled, he realized that his training bond had not yet been broken. Fury leaked down the bond from Master Jinn, and there was a thin veneer of panic under it. Slowly, regretfully, he began to erect the wall around the bond again. It was harder this time; he knew his Master had believed in him. Despair pressed on him and he clenched his teeth tighter to keep from crying. His jaw was beginning to ache.

_:No, Obi-Wan, please don't block me out again.:_

Obi-Wan gasped suddenly for breath. The fury was gone, as was the panic. But Qui-Gon's communication was not as steady as it usually was, and worry leaked down the bond between them.

_:Why not:_ he asked, trembling. He's searching for me, Obi-Wan thought, and could not deny the leap of hope in his heart.

_:Because I have not given up trying to change the Council's mind. They have agreed to meet with me tomorrow. Where are you:_

_:In hiding.:_

_:Will you tell me where:_

Before he could answer, the darkness he'd felt in the Council Chambers flowed around him, and he froze, suddenly more terrified than he ever remembered being in his life.

_:Obi-Wan:_

"What are you doing here, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan cringed, huddling deeper into his cloak. He didn't dare look up. Just the voice was enough to awaken memories he'd buried, memories of punishments for the slightest infraction - sometimes even just for tripping over his own feet. Toman's mild voice, filled with false concern, usually preceded anything bad his Master did.

"Obi-Wan?" Toman's hand touched his head, sliding down to his shoulder, and Obi-Wan flinched, reminding himself firmly that he could move from that grip.

Slowly, Obi-Wan looked up. Master Toman had aged a little, but the greatest change the last two years had wrought was that his face was twisted with anger and hate. He wore a nondescript brown cloak, but where it hung open Obi-Wan could see dark blue and green expensive-looking clothing accented with gems of the same color. He looked well off. "Sir?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Hiding," he said flatly. "The Council was going to cast me out, so I ran."

Toman _tsk_ed at him gently. "Running again? Will your Master find you this time?"

"You never found me," Obi-Wan growled. "You never bothered to go look." And then he realized that was not exactly what his former Master had meant. He was referring to Master Jinn, and the last time Obi-Wan had run away. And then he began to get angry. This man was not going to intimidate him any more.

"Why do they want to cast you out?" The curiosity and concern were false and served only to increase Obi-Wan's fury.

"Because of you." Obi-Wan got to his feet, still trembling, but this time in anger. "You directed my hands to kill my Master. And they did not believe me."

Toman laughed. "So, you found out. I wondered if you would. I was surprised that you resisted, and that he survived."

"Why?" he demanded. "Why did you want me to kill my Master?"

"To get you out of that blasted Temple and away from him," Toman said calmly. "Where you are now. The first time you hid yourself too well, and I had to content myself with following your bumbling Master around to find you. Yoda didn't trust him to bring you back. Something about how he was too close to you, and might go off with you. He didn't want to lose a good Jedi to a bad Padawan. Therefore, Master Jinn wasn't allowed to look for you as much as he'd have liked." He shrugged. "But here you are. Come with me."

Obi-Wan was stunned at this news. Master Yoda hadn't trusted Qui-Gon not to leave the Jedi because of him? Then he felt the brush against his defenses and panicked, his thoughts bent on escape now. He lunged at Toman, driving the man backwards a step, then he was frozen, encased in Force-stiffened air. Panic filled his mind, driving out the anger, but he could do nothing, not even scoot away on a knee that wouldn't support his weight. Unable to move, feeling like an animal in a trap, he threw up more and more shields as the man tried to break through them. Finally, Toman gave a soft chuckle. "I have to give Qui-Gon credit," he said softly. "I didn't expect him to strengthen your shields quite so much."

"He believes in me," Obi-Wan snarled, but he was not strong enough to break the hold his former Master had on him.

Toman stepped closer. "Listen to me," he said softly, and if he could have, Obi-Wan would have shrunk back from the animosity in his words. "You are going to follow me. You will do nothing to excite suspicion. If you do..." He turned and gestured. A boy of maybe ten ran out of the shadows, smiling at them.

"Hello," he said, excitedly. "You need a guide? I know this place very well. Price is cheap."

"Yes," Toman said, and gave directions that Obi-Wan desperately repeated over the bond. The boy started off, and Toman turned his eyes on Obi-Wan, who tried to shrink back. There was nowhere for him to go. "I will kill him horribly if you do not follow me."

Obi-Wan nodded, surprised that he could do so, and discovered he was trembling as the air around him eased so he could walk. He could still feel bands of the Force around his wrists, binding them together in front of him, so he followed Toman quietly. He didn't know if his Master had actually gotten the instructions - his panic made everything unclear - but he could only hope there would be help wherever he was going.


	20. The Night Seems so Cold

Writer's note: Bad news, all. My hard drive crashed. I don't know when book three will be up - I'd hoped to have it up by the beginning of February, but all the changes I've done on it the last six months are GONE - gotta start over. I'll try to hurry, though. JJ

* * *

Ch. 20: "The Night Seemed so Cold" - 'N Sync, _If I'm not the One_

Qui-Gon swept from the Council Chambers muttering curses under his breath, heading for the lift. The Council hadn't even consulted him, hadn't even asked Obi-Wan if he'd help them. He could feel Obi-Wan, feel his fear, and it tugged on him, the Force exerting as much a pull as his Padawan's fear. He wished he could understand the Force - the last time he'd felt this kind of compulsion to be somewhere it had led him _away_ from his Padawan. He'd left the Council Chambers as soon as Toman found the boy, and he didn't even know if any of the Council had protested. He had no time to deal with them right now.

Once he'd reached the level they'd said Obi-Wan had left from, he headed for the door. A hand fell on his arm as he reached to open the door to the outside, and he looked up to meet Tahl's eyes. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"To find Obi-Wan."

Her hand tightened on his arm as he started to move past her, out the door. "What happened?"

"I don't have time right now," he said shortly, trying to curb his anger. It was not her fault.

She let him go and followed him from the Temple; he slowed marginally so she could keep up. "What happened?" she repeated, drawing her cloak tighter about her. The wind on this walkway was always cold, no matter what the temperature on the rest of the planet, and the sun was beginning to set. He barely noticed the chill.

"The Council was going to cast him out." They made him think they were going to cast him out, he corrected himself silently. Angry as he was, he knew that if he broke this charade, they might not find out who might have been helping Toman get into the Temple. "I was trying to change their minds when he ran." And as soon as the door closed behind Obi-Wan, Mace had explained exactly what they were doing, and why he had to wait to go after his Padawan.

"Do you know where he is?" Her hand tucked itself neatly into his elbow, and he lengthened his stride again.

"I asked him not to block me. So far, he hasn't. He's down on the lower levels somewhere near the Temple." He took the next ramp down, but slowed as Obi-Wan repeated some directions he'd heard. They didn't make any sense, at least not until Qui-Gon found out where Obi-Wan had been when he'd gotten them. The boy was working hard on keeping his fear from getting in the way. Casting out with the Force when he reached the next level, Qui-Gon caught the barest hint of his Padawan's Force signature, left by his passage, and bolted forward, following it even as it faded. Tahl pounded behind him, her fingers laced in his cloak to keep up with him.

They wove through a marketplace, but slowed on the other side only long enough for him to find that hint of Obi-Wan's Force signature, and he was off again, twisting through alleys. Suddenly he stopped, staring at a narrow alcove that seemed to ooze darkness. A darkness he recognized, from the pain in his head when he'd woken up. "His directions came from here," he said softly. "Keep sharp. It's dangerous down here."

Tahl snorted, but said nothing. He was glad.

It was difficult finding the landmarks in Obi-Wan's directions; it had been near dusk when they'd left, and it was considerably darker on this level. Walkways and buildings hid the lights of the upper levels, and most of the lights here no longer worked. It didn't help that the alleys were not straight, twisting around on themselves as he tried to find the mark, an old statue, counting mouths of alleys they passed to find the right one. He had to move slowly, and could feel the frustration building up in him. Taking a breath, he let it out and the frustration with it. This was necessary. Otherwise, they'd get lost and it would take longer.

He froze suddenly as anger, fear, and horror lanced through the training bond, sharp enough that he wavered and might have fallen if Tahl hadn't taken his arm. "Qui-Gon?" she asked, worry lacing her tone.

Qui-Gon steadied himself. "Something happened," he said, and he cleared his throat to steady his voice. "But not to Obi-Wan. To someone else." The horror eased to sorrow, flashed through with anger, but the fear and the panic that had been in the bond remained.

Tahl nodded. "Where do we go next." Her voice was calm, steady, all that he should be and was not, and he pulled that calm into himself with the Force, trying to reach a state in which he could think and work - and find Obi-Wan.

"Left," he said, and they started off again.

He realized then that they hadn't been accosted yet, and at the same time hoped it would continue to be the case. He didn't want or need any more distractions. On the other hand, while the gangs on the lower levels probably preyed on any Jedi Padawan they saw, two full Knights would certainly give them pause. He shook the thought off, focusing on finding the cracked wall on the left that was the next landmark to finding his Padawan. They went on, deeper and deeper into the maze of alleyways, following the directions Obi-Wan had given his Master.

The last one led them into an alley on their right. Just as Qui-Gon stepped in, pain and fear blasted so strongly through the bond that he staggered backwards, gripping his head. The wall behind him stopped his movement, and he groaned low, fighting to keep himself from blacking out. The pain was debilitating, but he would not cut Obi-Wan off now. The boy needed him. Slowly, he gained control again, looking up into Tahl's worried face. "He's..." he started, but couldn't go on. It felt as if Obi-Wan's arms were being pulled from his shoulders.

Even as he started forward, that pain stopped, but almost immediately another started, one he couldn't identify. The only good thing he could think of was that it was less intense, and he could focus on finding his Padawan. A few feet into the alley they found the body of a young boy, stabbed cleanly through the heart with a vibroblade that lay discarded beside him. Aside from the wound in his chest, he lay arranged neatly as if for a burial. "Obi-Wan," Tahl said softly. "His signature is all around here."

Qui-Gon only nodded, distracted by the next pains that slithered down the bond. Someone was twisting the boy's knee again, the same one that had been ruined before Obi-Wan was his apprentice. Reaching out almost desperately, he searched for a direction to go in. The Force indicated that they go down the alley.

The door was in a shadowed alcove, leading into what might have once been an office building. Qui-Gon thought he caught sight of a sign he couldn't read in the dim light. Shrugging it off, he pushed through the door, holding it open for Tahl. It was pitch black, and instead of reaching for a light, he ignited his lightsaber. Tahl's ignited almost immediately after. "I don't sense any immediate danger," she said softly.

"I can't see," he told her.

"Ah." Her lips curved briefly into a smile, then straightened again as they strode across what might have once been reception area to the door on the other side. It was locked. Drawing back, Qui-Gon prepared to destroy the lock, the need to get to his Padawan outweighing anything else.

"Wait. You're in no condition to see if this door has been trapped or not," Tahl said urgently, and probed at the door with the Force.

Whatever she found reassured her, because she sliced neatly through the lock and they stepped inside.

Qui-Gon could barely think. Obi-Wan was in agony, pain coming from all sides. Tahl glanced at him. "Where next?" she asked. Her hand on his arm was steady, and only then did he realize he was shaking.

Slowly, he pulled himself away from the pain of his Padawan. It took him a while, sending reassurances back to him, but he finally looked at her. "Up," he said around the constriction in his throat.

Tahl nodded and he felt her cast out with the Force again. He was glad she'd come, because he knew he wasn't operating at his best in this. She took his arm. "This way," she said, and they began moving. It didn't take them long to find the stairs, and to his surprise, a light shone above them, lighting the way dimly. He deactivated his lightsaber, and Tahl followed his example.

One flight, two flights, Qui-Gon didn't know how far they had to go. Still the Force beckoned them up until they reached a landing. A high, thin, exhausted scream sounded from somewhere on that floor, and they both felt the tug, pulling them into the hallway. Qui-Gon could barely breathe and cast out in the Force for the darkness he knew was enveloping Obi-Wan. It tugged him to the left. Tahl went right. She paused, then raced after him. "Where are you going?"

"Toman is back here," he growled.

"Where is Obi-Wan? Are you sure they're together?"

With an effort, he curbed his anger and cast out for his Padawan. "Wonder how he did that," he murmured, wondering what she'd been following. Maybe just the will of the Force? "You were right."

She led the way down the hall and to a door. It was locked, and he waited for Tahl to do... whatever it was she did. She shook her head. "He didn't expect anyone to follow him," she said softly. "At least not so quickly. There is no real security here."

Shaking, Qui-Gon reached through the Force into the room. It was harder and the Force responded sluggishly because of his lack of focus, but he could not take the time to release his feelings to gather a closer connection. He didn't know if he had time. He could feel Obi-Wan on the other side of the door, in pain and surrounded by darkness. With him was a familiar Force signature - Toman. That was enough for him.

He burst through the door, barely noticing anything but an outdated surgical couch and his Padawan strapped to it, struggling weakly. The cuffs on Obi-Wan's wrists were rimmed in wet red, resisting as the boy struggled. The surgical droid, fastened to the head of it, was reaching with a heated element toward Obi-Wan's right hand. Toman stood near the end of the bed, one hand on Obi-Wan's injured leg, a look of shock and surprise on his face as he stared at the door.

Qui-Gon's lightsaber flew from his hand and bisected the droid; the heated element dropped to hang uselessly over the edge of the bed, missing Obi-Wan's shoulder by centimeters. Toman moved, lunging for the door, and Qui-Gon threw himself at the former Jedi, knocking them both to the floor. Toman struck at him, and Qui-Gon took the blow to his chest as his hands wrapped around the man's neck. Toman went still. Reluctantly, Qui-Gon let him go and hauled him to his feet. He could kill someone trying to kill him. He would not kill someone who had given in.

"You've done some good work on this boy," Toman said, glancing at Qui-Gon.

"Obi-Wan did it himself," Qui-Gon said, watching as Tahl carefully unstrapped Obi-Wan.

Toman scoffed. "That boy is useless and hopeless," he drawled. "There is nothing good about him."

"There is everything good about him," Qui-Gon said. "I am sorry you did not try to find the gem in him."

Toman wrenched himself free and lunged, knocking Tahl from where she struggled with the strap that kept Obi-Wan's wrist pinned to the surgical couch. Qui-Gon followed, shouldering him aside when he reached for Obi-Wan's throat, only to realize he wasn't reaching for Obi-Wan, but for Qui-Gon's lightsaber. Toman drew it out with an evil smile. "Do you know now long it's been since I have been allowed one of these?"

"You should never have been allowed one," Qui-Gon snarled, eyes narrowed.

"Qui-Gon," Tahl said sharply, and threw her lightsaber to him. He caught it, ignited it, and struck in one smooth movement.

"Did you know what they did to my lightsaber?" Toman asked as he clumsily blocked the strike.

"Destroyed it, I assume," Qui-Gon said, and struck again. "I bested your Master. Are you better than she?"

This block was even more clumsy. "She nearly killed him."

"A thirteen-year-old initiate," he spat. "Hardly a challenge for a Master. He has done nothing wrong." He struck; the block barely kept his blade from Toman's vulnerable neck.

"Not yet, he hasn't," Toman hissed. "He will destroy us all, even you, Master Jinn. Her visions are never wrong."

"She is wrong this time," Qui-Gon said. His anger was growing, cutting off his connection to the Force, and he paused to breathe. Toman struck this time, and with an almost casual gesture, Qui-Gon knocked the lightsaber from his hand. Shutting down Tahl's, he rapped Toman over the head with it, and the man dropped like a stone.

Tahl had gotten back to her feet and had begun trying to work Obi-Wan loose. Qui-Gon retrieved his lightsaber and gave Tahl hers as he turned his attention to his Padawan.

"Obi-Wan?" he asked gently, and his hand brushed through the sweat soaked, sun-bleached locks. Then he used his lightsaber on the lowest setting to cut his Padawan free.

The boy's eyes opened after a moment, the gratitude and relief there to be seen. "Thank you," he whispered, but his throat was so raw Qui-Gon could barely hear him.

"Sleep," he said gently, using a light compulsion. Obi-Wan dropped immediately into a healing trance. Qui-Gon turned to Tahl, who had moved across the room. "I'm going to call the Council," he said.

She held up her comm. "I already did," she said, and tucked it back into her belt. "And now I'll see to him." She indicated Toman, who moaned low and stirred weakly. With narrowed eyes, Qui-Gon froze the "Ir around him, holding the man still until Tahl could find something with which to bind him. Then she looked up with a quirk to her mouth. "So, are you in trouble again?"

He laughed mirthlessly. "Probably." He turned back to Obi-Wan, gently brushing the hair from the boy's face with a hand that trembled. "But I don't really care."

Tahl laughed. "That doesn't surprise me in the least."

Qui-Gon didn't try to move Obi-Wan; he wasn't sure how much damage had really been done. They didn't have long to wait. Much sooner than he'd expected, other Jedi, including some of the Council and two Healers, filed into the room. Those Healers had brought a grav sled with them, and they carefully moved Obi-Wan onto it. Qui-Gon watched as Toman was lifted to his feet and walked out, Saesee Tiin keeping a careful watch on him. Qui-Gon knew the Council member would make sure Toman returned to the Temple to face his punishment. Before long, they were on their way back to the Temple.

Qui-Gon remained close to Obi-Wan, trying not to catch the eyes of the Council members who accompanied them on the Transport. He managed simply by keeping his eyes glued to his Padawan's face, watching for any sign of pain or indication that the boy was waking up. Once they'd reached the Temple, he followed the grav sled to the Healers Wing, easily shrugging off the hands that tried to pull him away.

Theela met them at the entrance, and directed the two Healers as they moved Obi-Wan to a medical bed, then thanked and dismissed them. With a gentleness that belied her bulk, she arranged the boy so he was comfortable before straightening and turning to look at Qui-Gon. "I know you do not want to leave," she said quietly. "But the Council is waiting to talk to you, and I will be able to help your Padawan better without you."

Qui-Gon sighed, and Theela gave him a smile that was half amusement. He really did not want to see the Council, or talk to them, and she knew it. What she didn't know was that he really needed more time to calm down. He'd been very carefully not thinking of the Council, because every time he did, he wanted to strangle them. Each of them, individually and in private. Eventually, however, he was going to have to face them.

"I will call you the second he begins to wake up," Theela said, and Qui-Gon guessed that she had read his mind - or his expression. "It will be a while. They're readying a bacta tank now."

Qui-Gon nodded. "Very well," he said. "And thank you." He tried to control his anger all the way to the Council chambers.


	21. I Don’t Know Where to Start

Ch. 21: "I Don't Know Where to Start" - Backstreet Boys, _Shape of My Heart_

Obi-Wan woke slowly, fearfully, hoping there would be no pain. His memory was spotty after the droid had pulled his arms so hard, although he did remember Toman twisting his knee and the look of pleasure on his face from the obscene sounding pops that came from it. At least his arm moved now, when he raised it to look at where the droid had gripped his wrist; he'd tried once to get away, after the droid had released his wrists, but movement had been impossible. He couldn't see any marks, but he would have sworn he'd felt the skin tear. His knee didn't feel too bad any more, but who knew why that was. He thought he remembered seeing his Master - Master Jinn, he corrected himself - but...

"You are still my Padawan," a voice said, and he started almost violently, turning frightened eyes to find his Master sitting in a chair by the medical couch, looking haggard. "They did not cast you out."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, willing his heart to slow. "But Master Yoda said..." He realized that he wasn't as calm as he would have liked; there was still fear in his voice.

Qui-Gon's mouth twisted a little before straightening again. "It was a ruse," he said, his voice too controlled. "Your flight had to be real, and so did my reaction."

Obi-Wan's head spun, and he relaxed back into his pillow. Slowly, it came together; Qui-Gon's anger the morning when they'd told the Council it had been Toman who'd directed Obi-Wan's hands, and then his statement that the Council wanted to use him as bait. His own amazement that the Council hadn't noticed the dark Force questing after him in their own Chambers. They hadn't asked and they'd done it anyway. "Did it work?" he asked faintly.

"They discovered that he was getting in through a side door, one that has only electronic supervision. He has some skill with computers, and convinced that sentry that he was still allowed into the Temple. It was the door you left by," he added. "Toman was waiting just outside the Council doors and simply followed you when you ran."

"So he knew what was going on?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Yes." Qui-Gon gave him a weary smile. "He was waiting for this, but he didn't expect to be caught."

"They caught him?"

"Yes," he said shortly, and Obi-Wan knew he shouldn't ask any more questions, at least not about that. It effectively shut him up.

Qui-Gon sighed softly, and his expression eased. "His punishment is being determined now."

"It did nothing the last time," Obi-Wan protested bitterly.

"That will change," Qui-Gon said flatly, and sat up in his chair. "I have been remiss. How are you feeling?"

"Like I was the candy at a Tumerian fair pulled-candy booth. That's the second time someone's tried to pull my arms off in less than two weeks." He meant it to be a joke, but it took a while before a relieved smile crossed his Master's face.

"You're fine, if you can joke about it," Qui-Gon said. "How's your knee."

That wiped the smile from Obi-Wan's face. "Why did he do that?" It sounded plaintive, even a little whiney, and he sighed, cleared his throat, and tried again. "What made him twist my knee again?"

"Remember what I told you about Di'ona?"

Obi-Wan nodded, his heart seizing in his chest. She'd tried to kill him, had pulled her lightsaber against him here in the Temple, all because of a vision she'd had. He still wasn't sure she hadn't been right. The things she'd done were not taken lightly. Carefully, he reinforced his shielding; no reason to let Master Jinn find out about that. "That she felt I should not pass my trials."

Qui-Gon snorted. "Among other things, yes. I believe that was just the beginning. He wanted to cause you as much pain as he could before he killed you - or at least maimed you past all repair."

"Revenge?" Obi-Wan asked faintly, and realized he was rubbing his knee. He made his hand stop in spite of the slight twinge he felt.

"For what?"

"For... whatever happened to him?"

Qui-Gon half-smiled. "Possibly," he said. Silence followed his words, but then Obi-Wan propped himself up on his elbows.

"How did you know?"

Qui-Gon looked at him, curious. "Know what?"

"That I didn't know if I was still your Padawan?"

His Master smiled indulgently. "You project still, if you aren't careful. You were thinking rather loudly."

Obi-Wan blushed. "Oh."

The door opened to admit Theela, who paused and regarded them both with a mixture of exasperation and relief. "Now, Master Jinn," she told him firmly. "You can see that your Padawan is all right."

"Yes, I can," he said. "Is he free to go?"

The Hjem stared at him, then slowly shook her head, disbelief on her features. "Unbelievable," she muttered. "No, Master Jinn, but you are. Go get some sleep. He will be sleeping for the rest of the day as it is."

Obi-Wan relaxed into the pillow. "I will?" he asked.

Theela turned her gaze on him. "How's your knee?"

He'd managed to divert his Master, but there was no way he was going to be able to turn Theela's attention. "It hurts a little."

"Of course it does. It was strained in a way it wasn't supposed to be. That is why you are going to spend the rest of the afternoon asleep. If you're asleep, you won't aggravate it." She scowled. "Or me," she added firmly, and turned to Qui-Gon. "You..."

Something, his Master's expression or something else he couldn't see, made her stop, because she sighed. "Very well." She turned to Obi-Wan. "This compulsion will be light, but stay asleep as long as you want to."

He nodded and obediently closed his eyes; before he fell asleep, he heard Theela say firmly, "Now it's your turn. Go back to your quarters and rest."

* * *

When he woke again, Qui-Gon sat in the same chair he'd been in, reading something on a datapad. He looked up after a moment, and Obi-Wan had to admit that his Master looked much better. "Good morning," the Master said with a smile. "You took Theela at her word, I see." 

"Morning?" Obi-Wan echoed, and sat up. Reaching his hands out to either side, he indulged in a stretch that pulled muscles in his back almost until they ached.

"Morning," Qui-Gon repeated, and gestured to the table, bringing it closer with the Force. "I brought you breakfast." When uncovered, the smell of the fried Maran-atha eggs and sausage made his mouth water. A cup of juice stood just beyond. Without a second thought, Obi-Wan tucked in, devouring what his Master had brought. When he'd finished, he looked up again. Qui-Gon was leaned back in his chair, lips pressed firmly together, mirth sparkling in his eyes. "Did you breathe, Padawan?" he asked.

Obi-Wan blushed and looked down.

Qui-Gon laughed. "I'll get Theela. She said if you cleared your plate, you were ready to leave." He left the room.

Obi-Wan hopped down from the sleep couch, glad that there was no resultant twinge in his knee. It seemed to have healed again. He opened the compartment that held his normal clothes and was taking them out when the door opened again.

Theela scowled at him. "I did not say you could go yet, Padawan Kenobi," she said firmly.

Still holding his things, he got back onto the sleep couch. "Yes, Master," he said, unrepentant.

"You knee is feeling better?"

"Yes, Master," he repeated. "It didn't even twinge when I got up."

She regarded him in silence for a moment. "Very well. Dress, and you can go." She turned away, shaking her head. "The things these two put me through," she muttered as she left.

Obi-Wan was pulling on his boot when Qui-Gon returned, and the Padawan straightened slowly. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said, and couldn't help but smile. It was such a relief to say the words and to know they were for _his_ Master.

Qui-Gon smiled back. "Then let's go."

Obi-Wan saw no one he knew on their way back to their quarters. He was glad, hoping to get his hair cut before he did see a friend.

When they reached their quarters, Qui-Gon stopped Obi-Wan when he would have gone into his own room. "You have doubts," he said gently.

Obi-Wan stared at him. "Doubts, Master?" he nearly choked. "About what?"

Qui-Gon nodded and indicated that he sit down. "You believe Di'ona may have been right."

Obi-Wan sank into one of the chairs near the couch, stunned. He'd tried to keep that from his Master, the insecurity he'd been living with since Qui-Gon had apprenticed him. "Y-yes, Master," he stuttered.

"Why?"

"Sh-she must have had some idea that it would happen," Obi-Wan started. "I mean, visions do come true, and who's to say that..." He trailed off, his fear, worry, and a familiar panic beginning to gather in his mind again. He didn't want to destroy the Jedi! He wanted to become one.

"Obi-Wan, the Force gives glimpses of the future often, usually to those strong in its Unifying nature. Di'ona may have been one of those, I don't know. But there is a problem with that. Do you see it?"

"Always in motion the future is," Obi-Wan said softly, through the lump in his throat.

"Exactly. The glimpses may or may not come true, simply because something changes, possibly something we have no control over. The Living aspect of the Force guides us now. Perhaps we don't know why, and sometimes we never know why." He smiled wryly at Obi-Wan. "We have to have faith that the Force will not lead us wrong."

"But what if she was right?" Obi-Wan demanded, his voice shrill. "What if..."

"Obi-Wan."

His Master's voice cut through the hysteria, and he calmed a little.

Qui-Gon watched him a minute, then took a deep breath. "I'm sure that the Temple rumor mill has not lessened any since I was your age. So you know that I did not want another Padawan."

Obi-Wan nodded jerkily, still trying to get back into control.

"If I had not accepted you as Padawan, you would now be with the Agri-Corps or elsewhere, both because you are too old, and because you were repudiated three times."

Obi-Wan nodded again, more in control.

The Master closed his eyes. "I was about to ask Yoda for another mission," he said, and looked straight at his Padawan. "I had gone to the Council that morning with that in mind. I was determined to remain without a Padawan, but... Having you there, innocent of all wrong doing and so hopeful, was more than I could take, and I needed to get away. I opened my mouth to ask - and could not speak."

Obi-Wan's eyes widened. "You couldn't say anything?"

"Not a word." His mouth twisted slightly. "Yoda simply waited, and gestured to silence any of the other Council members who wanted to speak. I stood there for a long time, trying to figure out what the Force wanted of me, and to be honest, hoping you were not it. Finally, I opened my mouth again, and the words just came out. I told them I wished to take you as my Padawan." Qui-Gon sighed and leaned back. "While I don't know if Di'ona's vision will come true, I don't believe it will. Because if it were a true vision, Obi-Wan, do you think that the Force would have been so insistent that you become my Padawan?"

Obi-Wan stared at him, eyes wide, too stunned to think of an answer.

Qui-Gon chuckled. "I am glad I did, that I followed the will of the Force, because it knew what I needed better than I did - which is as it should be. Think on that, Padawan mine. And don't worry so much. It will happen as the Force wills it."

Slowly, Obi-Wan recovered, and then he smiled as well. "Yes, Master."

Qui-Gon nodded. "Good. Now, let's see if we can't get you looking a little more like the Padawan you are. And you need to finish your lightsaber."

"Yes, Master."

Obi-Wan went to retrieve his lightsaber, awash with relief. Slowly, that relief gave way to the rightness of what he was doing, and he felt the last core of fear fade away. No matter what Di'ona thought, what she'd seen, he was where he was supposed to be.

* * *

Writer's note: That's it. I hope you've enjoyed this ride - It's been a blast for me. Have a great year, and I'll get working on book three. JJ 


	22. Haunted Trailer

Writer's Note: I know, it's been a while. My hard drive crashed (I am NOT happy about this, and I hope I haven't lost anything. I find out tomorrow), and I haven't had access to the internet. Someone mentioned not liking"The screen goes black" on the trailer for Long Road Home; my appologies, but it is actually necessary this time. I don't know when I will actually be able to post Haunted (which may mean this is REALLY cruel) because Imy have lost the 13 chapters I had revised, and might have to start over. I hope to have this thing done and started posting on it by April (again, seriously wishful thinking, but I'm really hoping I haven't lost everything). Happy reading! JJ.

* * *

Obi-Wan, in clothes other than his Jedi robes, runs down a corridor hewn from deep red rock. A small child is cradled in his arms. Behind him, an explosion goes off and he stumbles as the ceiling starts to cave in. Far at the other end of the corridor, he can see beings, dressed as he is, running toward him. Between them, two other beings are sprawled on the floor, moving feebly as if trying to get up. Suddenly, Qui-Gon Jinn steps from a doorway near the downed beings. "Master!" Obi-Wan shouts. "Catch!" He twists and throws the child; she flies the impossible distace to Qui-Gon. He catches her and steps out of the hallway as the collapsing ceiling catches up to Obi-Wan. 

The screen goes black.

Sometimes...

flashes on the screne in white, and fades.

Qui-Gon fights a man not in Jedi tunic, each with a lightsaber. "You banished my Master!" the other man accuses, and strikes.

"I was merely a catalyst," Qui-Gon says as he parries. "Where is she?"

His opponent smiles evilly. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he laughs, and lunges.

Qui-Gon dodges, then again as another lightsaber strikes at him. The Jedi Master turns to his new attacker, still off-screne, and his eyes widen in surprise and recognition.

The screne goes black.

It isn't over

flashes in white, and fades.

Obi-Wan kneels on grass, a woman standing before him, not in Jedi robes. She thumbs a lightsaber to life; he throws himself backwards, rolling to his feet. As he does, metal snaps out from either side of his fist, creating a staff. He dodges each time she strikes, using the staff to keep the woman from getting closer. Suddenly, he steps closer; even as the lightsaber takes off one end of the staff, the other trips her. She goes down and drops the lightsaber. He immediately calls it to hand; she gets up and pulls another lightsaber from her belt.

The screen goes black.

When you think it is.

Flashes in white.

(vo)Obi-Wan: "I don't want to destroy the Jedi!"

(vo)Woman's voice: "Of course you don't want to." The tone is an odd mixture of sympathy and mockery. "But you will anyway."

Haunted

Part three of the Visions of the Past, Memories of the Future trilogy

Coming in 2006


End file.
